


Four Walls (Of Law Firms and Honey)

by Bre



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Angry Kissing, Angry Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dark, Dubious Consent, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Sex, F/M, Felicity isn't much better, Gratuitous Smut, Office Sex, Oliver Is A Dick, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Trigger Warning: Dubious Consent, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, dubcon, resolved emotional tension, the darkness and dubcon goes both ways, this fic gets darker in my mind with each update, this story is being told out of order, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 66,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3982066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre/pseuds/Bre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver is Felicity's boss at Queen & Queen, a prestigious international law firm. She's the tech genius, he's the top dog's son, and they viciously disagree on nearly everything. Despite that, they work together, neither outright acknowledging the ever-present simmering attraction that has slowly been growing hotter and hotter...</p>
<p>Until a chance meeting at a grocery store one night has them crossing a line, a tiny little line that was never meant to be crossed.</p>
<p>A collection of ficlets in the same 'verse, called Of Law Firms and Honey (as dubbed by emilybetterthanyourickards). </p>
<p>This story is being told out of order - check out the <b><a href="http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/fourwalls">Four Walls Timeline</a></b>, listing the fics as they happen chronologically for Oliver and Felicity. Please also check out the <b><a href="https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L">Four Walls Playlist</a></b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1 a.m. Grocery Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble Prompt - thithity asked: "Wow! You are really short without heels"
> 
> When I first started this fic, I grew great inspiration from this amazing fanmix: [Burning Desire by lepetitemarie](http://8tracks.com/lepetitemarie/burning-desire-an-olicity-fanmix) on 8tracks. It helped start the shaping process for where I'm taking these two in this series (from sweet to rough to soft to dark - an office romance isn't all its cut out to be). A lot of the songs can be found on the [Four Walls Playlist](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).
> 
> The title of this series is from Four Walls by Broods.
> 
> **Warning:** Along with the beginning softness, I'm going to explore a darker, more carnal side of the Olicity relationship, based on the animosity that has developed between them due to their work environment.   
> **  
>  Please read the story tags before continuing.  
>  **
> 
>   
>    
> 

**"Wow! You are really short without heels."**

Felicity froze at the sound of _his_ voice.

She closed her eyes, counting backwards from ten, really hoping that she was delusional. Or hallucinating. Or dreaming, although she would have to question her sanity if she was spending her sleeping hours dreaming about grocery shopping at nearly one in the morning…

Which led her right back around to _why in the hell was he here_?

He was her mortal enemy. Alright, that was an exaggeration, but he was pretty close. From the first day she’d started at the law firm of Queen & Queen, she’d known that _he_ was going to be the worst part about this job. You wouldn’t think that a lawyer’s son would have any interest in being part of the family business, much less insinuating himself into _her_ department. Queen  & Queen was an international law firm, which meant they had a large need for an IT department that didn’t suck. Enter her.

It was supposed to be just her and small team…

And apparently the devil himself.

Felicity had never met Robert Queen, since he spent most of his time in Russia, but she heard that he was a decent human being; how he spawned the worst human being ever was beyond her.

Almost every other text to her friend Charlotte was about the ‘demon spawn’ that was her immediate boss - he was technically her boss, but he did most of the project work right along with them, which at first had been endearing until she’d gotten to know him.

The name _fit_.

_“You wouldn’t believe what demon spawn did today.”_

_“Demon spawn name-dropped again.”_

_“Justified homicide is on the menu today. Demon spawn is in rare form.”_

_“HE CRASHED THE ENTIRE SYSTEM, CHARLIE.”_

They weren’t on the best of terms, and that was an understatement, especially considering he’d swindled her latest project right out from under her. And guess who would be cleaning up the mess if he pulled the same stunt he did on the Kindusky file?

Just thinking about it had a livid fire starting to burn in her chest again…

He wasn’t an idiot, he knew his stuff… but he _was_ an idiot at the same time. Sometimes she felt like he was doing it on purpose, just to give her a stomach ulcer.

And here he was, literally adding stomach acid to the acid fire in her stomach by greeting her with a ‘wow, you’re super short.’

“Here, let me help,” he said, and Felicity’s eyes snapped open.

She hopped off the shelf she’d been standing on trying to grab the last of the organic honey brand she couldn’t live without - _take my love, take my land, but don’t touch my honey_ \- and spun to face him.

“No, I’m okay, really-” was already flying out of her mouth, but she ran face-first into Oliver Queen’s not-so-soft chest. She let out a startled, “Oof,” and he grabbed her, steadying her.

“Whoa, easy,” he said.

Felicity blinked, frowning up at him. “Your body is too hard.”

Oliver’s lips pulled back in a smug smile and Felicity’s face heated up when she replayed her words. It wasn’t the first slip she’d made around him about his overly attractive body, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. He needed to walk around with a bag over his face.

And it wasn’t helping that he was most definitely not removing himself from her bubble. She felt overly aware of the fact that her back was pressed against the shelf and he was _right there_.

“Nobody’s ever complained about that before,” Oliver replied.

Felicity huffed. “Not to your face, no.”

He smirked. “I’ll have you know I can be pretty soft too.”

“In the head?” Felicity asked innocently.

Usually a light barb was enough for him to just look at her, like he was impatient with her, before walking away. Apparently that was just a work thing, because Oliver laughed instead.

“You’re in rare form tonight, Smoak. I didn’t mean to get your panties in a twist.”

“Don’t think, for one minute, you have any influence over my panties, Oliver Queen.”

“I’ve got an influence over something.”

“My overly abused desire to poke you in the eye? Yes.” He laughed again, not moving, and Felicity glared at him, pushing him away from her. “It’s one in the morning near the most dangerous part of the Glades, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I live right around the corner, I have every right to be here.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed at that, like he didn’t know she lived in a not-so-great area. He had more than enough access to her personal information because he _was_ her boss technically, although maybe she should be glad he didn’t know that because wouldn’t that be a bit creepy? So his displeasure was because he happened to choose the one store she was shopping in, right? Why he chose the one grocery store in the Glades that she shopped at was beyond her. So no, maybe he should have seen her address so he knew to avoid it…

Wow, her 1 a.m. Brain was on fire today.

“And you chose the middle of the night to go grocery shopping?” Oliver asked.

“Have you been in this store during the day?” Felicity asked before she realized who she was asking. “No, of course not, you probably don’t even do your own shopping. So, did bar-hopping get boring?”

“I’m actually shopping,” Oliver said simply, brushing her snippy remarks right off.

“Good for you.” Felicity waved him away. “Go shop somewhere else.”

Oliver’s eyebrow rose. “Are you kicking me out of the store?”

“No,” Felicity replied slowly. “I’m telling you I was in this aisle first, so go find another one.”

“You don’t own this aisle. Besides, I need stuff down here.”

“Like what?”

“Like… honey,” Oliver replied, his voice suddenly filled to the brim with insinuation and despite herself, Felicity’s breath hitched at the way his pupils dilated, his eyes darkened… He acted like he didn’t notice it as he looked at the honey she was going for. “Need me to grab that for you?”

“No,” Felicity replied stringently. “I’m good.”

“I’m right here,” Oliver said, and he took a step forward, pushing her further into the shelves when she tried to step back as he reached over her, easily grabbing the bottle she had been trying to reach.

She should have held her breath, because when she took a deep breath, she got a healthy whiff of that cologne he wore, plus something a little more musky, something that was pure Oliver.

And she liked it.

Felicity’s eyes snapped shut at that thought.

No, she didn’t like it. He smelled. Like… a zoo.

“What?” Oliver asked, pausing, his arm still hovering over her. “I smell like a zoo?”

“No, you _really_ don’t,” Felicity replied instantly and then she caught herself. “I mean yes! Yes, you do. So… get away from me.”

“How can I do that when there are short girls running around wanting everything on the top shelf?”

“This just happens to be the one thing I needed on a top shelf.”

Oliver’s lips twitched, like he wanted to smile. “That’s a load of crap. I saw you earlier, trying to get the last box of Raisin Bran off the top shelf - and we should also talk about your entire lack of taste when it comes to cereal.”

“My cereal tastes are _fine_ , thank you very much. And healthy,” Felicity snapped. “Is this how you get your jollies off? Watching people shop in the middle of the night?”

“No, I get my jollies off watching short people trying to climb grocery store shelves.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“And you’re really short without heels.”

Felicity pinched her lips, looking up.

Oliver’s arm still hovered over her, his hand gripping the bottle of honey she wanted on the top shelf - he didn’t move to give it to her. When she reached up to grab it, he pushed it back and her glare could have burned the entire building down for all the heat in it.

“Give me the honey,” she said. He merely quirked an eyebrow and the same look from before had her stomach fluttering in ways it had no business fluttering.

Closing her eyes, she took a breath and opened them again, offering him a placid smile. “You know what, you’re just saving me from drinking too much tea, Oliver, which means I’ll be drinking more coffee, and do you know what happens when I drink too much coffee?”

“What?” he asked, his voice gentle, his eyes soft. In fact… she suddenly realized all of him felt very soft. Not… like that, but in the way he was just _there_. He was so there, and still very much in her bubble, and he was like…

Felicity did not like this. She didn’t.

And she was not getting flustered. She wasn’t.

Because she didn’t like the demon spawn. She really did not. She really had not liked him since the first time she saw him, or because he challenged her every single move, or because he rose to her challenging him, or because he looked amazing in suits, or because he was strangely more endeared to her when she outsmarted him on basically everything…

_She wasn’t._

Felicity stared at him, suddenly realizing her heart was racing, her palms were feeling weirdly itchy and when she licked her lips, his eyes dropped to watch it.

She definitely did notice the way his breath hitched.

The sight emboldened her.

Maybe it was because the demon spawn was pushing her buttons far more than should be allowed, or she really wanted her damn honey, or because it was 1 a.m. and that was a perfectly good reason to do what she was about to do because she didn’t like him, so it would mean nothing…

Felicity relaxed, her eyes softening, and she watched his eyes narrow in interest. She reached for his shirt, wrapping it in a tight fist and pulled him towards her as she leaned in. She felt the heat radiating from his chest against her hand, his chest moving with a quick rapid breath, his free arm coming up to her shoulder before sliding down her arm to rest on her hip…

Her heart definitely did not skip seven beats with that move, it did not.

Nor did it stop completely when he sighed, and it sounded a whole lot like, “Felicity…”

He never said her first name. He always called her Smoak.

She was hearing things.

Just like she was imagining the pure electricity in the air darting between them with each second that passed.

Felicity lifted herself on her toes to get closer to him while her free hand slid up the shelf to the honey bottle he held prisoner above her.

Their lips brushed for a microsecond and for that quick blip in time she almost let herself have just one touch, one kiss… She’d dreamt about it enough, hadn’t she? All those times she’d caught herself daydreaming about what it would be like to shut him up with a kiss when he talked over her in a meeting, or imagining what the look on his face meant when she cut him off during their late-night project issues… 

Before remembering this was her boss. He was the demon spawn. And she was definitely supposed to _not like him_. Because she didn’t. She didn’t like his disrespectful, full-of-himself, demon-spawny attitude. And she definitely did not spend too much time wondering what the _real_ Oliver Queen was like…

No.

This was the real Oliver Queen, and he wanted to play games, she’d play right back.

“You don’t want to find out,” she breathed in response to his question about her on coffee just as she snatched the bottle of honey from his hand.

Just as quickly, she was on her feet, slipping out of his arms and putting the bottle in her basket, pushing it quickly down the aisle.

He didn’t say anything and neither did she - although how she could hear anything past the rapid staccato of her heartbeat in her ears was up for debate - as she eagerly pushed her cart away, deciding she had enough for now. It was time to go.

As Felicity rounded the corner, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing back.

Oliver was in the same spot, his arm still leaning on the shelf, his eyes on her… their eyes met, and Felicity chest suddenly felt like it had too much air in it before a rack of chips cut them off.


	2. 11:30 p.m. Supply Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Olicity - "That shade of red doesn't really go with you, Oliver."
> 
> The IT team is working through the night on a big project for an emergency meeting with the Board and Robert Queen. Everything is going seamlessly, except for one thing: the team now includes one Barry Allen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important to remember this story is being told out of order - I don’t have a timeline set yet, but it will start taking shape with each ficlet I add. Also, this is a much _darker_ look at Olicity’s relationship, in much different circumstances - this is a relationship built on animosity and undeniable attraction, which is never a good combination, especially with someone you work with. Please keep that in mind while reading this.

“Where’s Smoak?”

The kid’s head immediately shot up, looking simultaneously startled that Oliver had snuck up on him, and frightened because Oliver had snuck up on. He shoved himself to his feet, dropping his highlighter in his haste; it landed on the edge of the table and flipped, the bright orange end landing right on his khaki pants.

“Oh crap,” Barry Allen breathed, trying to catch it but he wasn’t fast enough. It landed on the floor with a soft thud, rolling underneath the table. He looked at Oliver sheepishly. “I’m sorry… what?”

Oliver just stared at him, face impassive, waiting for the answer he wanted.

“Oh, yeah, right. She, uh… we ran out of pens. Highlighters, I mean. For the changes in the final draft of the proposal…” He swallowed, pinching his lips when Oliver’s only response was to raise an eyebrow, waiting for more. “In the closet. The supply closet, I mean, that’s where she went.” He waved in the general direction. “She just left. A second ago.”

Oliver’s eyes ticked over the workspace. He took a deep breath, loosening his already loose tie where it hung limply over his chest, his mood darkening when he noted the other empty chairs. He fought to keep his voice even as he pushed his rolled sleeves further up his arms, already knowing the answer he was going to get before he’d even asked the question. 

“Does it take all three of them to get highlighters?”

Allen’s brow furrowed, looking around before Oliver’s meaning struck him. “Oh! You mean Caitlin and Cisco? Felicity said that they could go home, since they’d finished the Larmen files.”

The steady burn that had been simmering in the pit of his stomach since the last time he came out of his office exploded, and Oliver clenched his teeth, gripping the doorjamb to his office. He didn’t give two shits what he and Felicity did on the side, she wasn’t in charge - he was.

Whatever Allen saw on his face made him blanch. “Was that… not okay?”

Oliver closed his eyes, letting out a controlled breath before he moved, stalking past the kid. He moved so quickly and with such an air of efficient anger that Allen jerked like he’d been burned, turning jerkily to watch him until Oliver was out of sight. Fighting the urge to turn around and tell the kid to man the fuck up - Allen may be one of the smartest people on his team, but that didn’t mean he had to like him - Oliver made his way to the supply closet, the fire in his gut growing with each step. 

It also didn’t mean he had to like the way he looked at Felicity, or how close they sat while working on the proposal, or how he’d tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before they’d broken apart when Felicity saw Oliver watching them. He would have told them to get the hell out of his sight a while ago, but the draft was almost done, and he needed it finalized and ready by nine tomorrow morning… which meant he had to deal with this bullshit until that draft hit his desk.

They’d been on track for finishing the proposal on the upgrades needed in the IT department, the one he was supposed to present to the board and his father when he was back in town; things had been going seamlessly, everything falling into place, until Robert abruptly moved his trip up a few weeks. 

At least Oliver got the news personally this time.

_“I want it Thursday morning. I’m heading to Gotham that night to meet with Wayne about a new case, and I want to make sure I can say with confidence we have the best security system in the country. That won’t be a problem, will it?”_

_“Of course not. It’ll be ready at nine.”_

_“Good.”_

It hadn’t been problem - it _wasn’t_ a problem, because he knew his team could get it done. He knew he would make the presentation tomorrow, he knew the board was going to be more than impressed with the direction they were going in keeping their files secure… and he was more than confident that he would finally see something more than the soft shade of disappointment Robert Queen always wore around him. 

If only his team could get it done without pissing him off in the meantime.

A thin sliver of light from the supply closet highlighted the otherwise dark hallway and Oliver headed straight for it. He heard the rustle of boxes, the clinking of supplies and her telltale murmurings as she whispered to herself. Usually it was endearing in a way that made him want to throw something at the wall - he had to keep reminding himself she _wasn’t_ endearing, that she shouldn’t be endearing, that he damn well shouldn’t _find_ her endearing - but right now it only pushed him closer to the edge, thinking about her _murmuring_ to that Allen kid, their heads so close they nearly touched when they bent over their work.

Oliver shoved the door open, making Felicity jump with a sharp yelp of surprise, spinning to face him. He barely caught the door before it slammed into the wall and she stared at him with her hand over her heart and wide eyes as he stepped into the small supply closet and abruptly shut the door behind him. 

Despite the fact that he was there to yell at her, to tell her she’d more than overstepped her bounds by sending people home she didn’t have the authority to send home, his mind instantly snapped back to the last time they’d been in there. 

Two mornings ago, he’d gone into her office with a question, and she’d looked up at him with a look he knew very well.

_“I think I need more red pens, Mr. Queen. Can you… help me with that?”_

The second they’d gotten into the closet, she’d been on her knees, unzipping his pants, taking his entire length in her hot mouth before he could gasp her name.

His body stirred at the memory of her bright red lipstick leaving messy smears all over him as she’d sucked him off, her pink tongue darting out, swirling around him, her hand slipping into his boxers to cup and tug on his balls, forcing his entire world to focus on what she had been doing in that moment. His pants grew a little tighter, his eyes dropping to her lips where they were parted - they were pink today - and he imagined pushing her down to her knees, shoving his hand into her messy ponytail as she undid his pants… 

“What the hell are you doing?”

He stared at her. “Why’d you send Ramon and Snow home? I didn’t say they could leave.”

Felicity’s brow furrowed, her mouth opening before she changed her mind. After a belated second, she slowly set down her handful of pens and highlighters.

“You said they could leave once they were done with the scanning,” she said. “That was the first thing you told me after you got the call from your dad.”

“No,” Oliver said, stepping closer. She swallowed uneasily, her eyes darting to the closed door before she met his eyes again, and he felt a little thrill. She was uncomfortable. _Good_. He moved in closer, invading her personal space; despite the uncertainty in her eyes she squared her shoulders, not backing down, and he felt another little thrill. “I said they needed to come see me once the scanning was done, and if there was nothing left then they could go home.”

Felicity frowned. “It’s 11:30 on a Wednesday night, Oliver, what could you possibly want them to do that can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Oliver replied, stepping even closer. She instinctively took a step back, and he followed her until her back hit the shelving. “I didn’t say they could go, but you sent them home anyway.”

“Okay… so, what, you want me to apologize for doing something we both know you would’ve done anyway?”

The sarcasm was like a serrated edge scraping across his nerves. Oliver narrowed his eyes, _looming_ over her, as he said, “That’s not the point, _Smoak_.”

He caught the spark in her eyes, the same spark she always shot him when he said her name like that. He leaned in closer and she clenched her jaw, biting out, “Back off, Oliver.” 

“Apologize, and then I’ll back off.”

“Excuse me?” Felicity said, loudly, and she shoved her palms against his chest, pushing him back. “I don’t care who the hell you are, Oliver, you don’t talk to me that way.”

“You went over my head-”

“Yeah, I did, and I was saving everyone the grief of having their heads bitten off,” she snapped, shoving his chest again, but he barely budged. “You’ve been a dick to everything that’s _moved_ since we sat down to finish this thing tonight, so sue me if I didn’t want you taking that out on people who didn’t deserve it.”

Oliver glowered at her, and she glared back, silence reigning; neither backed down, the air between them crackling with the unspoken challenge.

“It is pretty convenient,” Oliver finally said, his voice dropping, deceptively soft as he cocked his head, staring down at her.

“What?” she asked, goading him and he stepped towards her again, crowding her against the shelf. She tried to slide around him but his arm shot out, stopping her, knocking a box of pencils to the ground. “Oliver…”

“Pretty convenient that you sent home Cisco and Caitlin, but kept Allen around…” Her features twisted with incredulous outrage at the insinuation. “And for what, _highlighting_? Is it really that hard?”

Felicity stared at him, a light flush creeping across her delicate skin as her eyes darted between his, her breathing growing heavier. 

They’d been there since six that morning, and it showed - her makeup was a little smudged, her lipstick not as bright, her ponytail loose; she hadn’t redone it in hours, leaving it slouching down against her neck, accenting the wispy strands falling out of it. His fingers tingled with the desire to reach out and smooth them down. He’d never in a million years tell her how sexy he found it, especially on her - it was how she looked when she woke up, hair unkempt from his hands the night before, frizzy from being slept on… 

Oliver bit the tip of his tongue. He wasn’t supposed to actually _like_ how she looked in the morning - that wasn’t what this was… and it damn well wasn’t why he’d practically attacked her last weekend when she’d stayed at his apartment Saturday night…

_Oliver licked and nipped his way down her stomach, running his tongue along the gentle swell, following the soft lines down to her hips. Felicity squirmed underneath him, her hands on his cheeks, her skin still deliciously warm from being tangled in his comforter. Oliver moved down, her nails scraping across his face as dragged his tongue all the way down her leg, slowly working his way back up, taking his sweet time._

_“Oliver, please…” she choked, her hands grasping at empty air before falling on her stomach. She pushed them up underneath her shirt, shoving it out of the way. Oliver groaned when she cupped her breasts, his eyes on her little fingers pinching her nipples as her hips arched up, seeking friction. But he ignored her, going down her other leg. She cried out when his tongue dipped into the crevice behind her knee, the sound so perfectly breathless it made his chest tighten. “Oliver… please.”_

_He sunk his teeth in her inner thigh and she gasped, suddenly sitting up._

_Felicity’s hands fisted in his hair and she yanked his face up to hers with a brutality that left him spinning._

_Their lips collided painfully, so hard he was sure they would bruise as she took out her frustration on him, her need, her desire… and Oliver bit back just as hard, meeting her every inch of the way before Felicity grabbed his hand and shoved it between her legs._

It had been four days since he’d felt her hot heat clamping down on him as she came around his dick, her back bowing, forehead slick with sweat, her mouth open in a desperate cry, his fingers rubbing her clit over and over, shoving her full-force into another orgasm, one that had her shoving her nails so deeply into the back of his neck he still had scabs…

One of the strands draped over her cheek, and it moved when he exhaled.

It was the same strand the kid had pushed behind her ear, his hand lingering… Felicity had bitten her lip, _blushing_.

Oliver clenched his jaw, the fire in his stomach burning so bright he tasted the acid crawling up his gullet.

Felicity suddenly let out a humorless chuckle. She leaned back against the shelf, the metal groaning as she looked up at him inquisitively, and for a second he felt like she was looking right through him.

“You know, that shade of red doesn’t really go with you, Oliver,” she said.

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re jealous,” Felicity said, a shallow smile tugging at her lips. His stomach dropped at the bald statement, and she shook her head in sour wonder. “You’re jealous of Barry.”

“I am not _jealous_.” Oliver bracketed his hands on the shelf on either side of her head. “I’m pissed that you’re overstepping your boundaries. Again.”

She laughed again. “My boundaries?” When she looked at him this time, there was nothing left but disdain. She suddenly stepped into his personal space, her hand snaking up to grip his tie where it hung loosely around his neck. She tugged on it and he pinched his lips as she stood on her toes to reach him; her grip tightened, and Oliver’s body reacted like she was holding his dick. “I’m pretty sure you’re overstepping yours right now, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver ground his teeth together, breathing harshly through his nose, never breaking eye contact as she smirked.

“Last time I checked,” she said, her nose brushing against his. He leaned towards her, yearning for more, but she pulled back, looking him straight in the eye. “I’m still single, which means I can do whatever I want, with whoever I want.”

Oliver’s grip on the shelf tightened, to the point that it bit into his hand so hard he nearly let go.

“If I want to flirt with Barry, Oliver,” she continued, her lips ghosting over his. His eyes slipped shut for a split second. “I will, and you can’t do anything about it. 

“You have no claim over me.”

Felicity abruptly let him go and slid under his arm, going around him. She snatched her pile of pens and highlighters as Oliver turned, following her, forcing himself to not move. His hands curled into tight fists as she backed up towards the door, kicking the loose pencils on the ground out of the way.

She wasn’t wrong, and they both knew it. He had no claim on her, just as she had no claim on him. It was something they’d discussed - if you could call her slamming him up against a wall after his date with Helena, reiterating her entire lack of claim on him before she’d ripped his shirt open a _discussion_ \- and they’d both come to the conclusion that whatever this was between them, whatever it was that kept them coming to each other day after day, kept him sliding behind her in the copy room or had her sneaking into his bathroom for a quickie during lunch or him showing up at her apartment at midnight or her getting dressed in the dark after coming over for a few hours… whatever it was, it wasn’t _anything_.

They were _nothing_.

Felicity reached the door, her hand landing on the doorknob.

“I think Barry and I have a little more highlighting to do.” She wiggled the hand full of highlighters, giving him an emotionless smile over her shoulder. “It’s been a long day, you can go home if you want, Oliver. The draft’ll be on your chair before nine.”

Oliver was moving before he knew what he was doing. Felicity had the door opened, kicking more pencils out of the way, but suddenly he was there, slamming it back shut and shoving her against it. 

“Oliver,” she gasped, the highlighters falling to the ground. She tried to turn, but he stopped her, shoving her face-first against the door again, his hands falling to her hips, lifting her up just enough to press the bulge in his pants against her ass. Felicity clawed at the door, trying to find leverage, but Oliver didn’t give her the chance, blanketing his body over hers. He dug his fingers into her hip, his other hand shoving her hair out of the way.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Oliver whispered harshly into her ear, and he felt her bodily shudder, heard her tiny whimper, and he knew he had her.

Oliver pulled her earlobe between his lips, his tongue flicking over it, and she gasped, arching against him. She rotated her hips, pressing her firm ass against him, and he hissed in her ear, gripping the back of her neck as his other hand slipped down to her bare thigh. His nails scraped over her delicate skin, making her hiss in return.

_Mine._

The word reverberated in his head, echoing over and over as he shoved his hand under her skirt and up to her panties. He groaned, pressing her harder against the door, not caring that it might be hurting her, that she was whimpering his name, her nails scraping over the metal.

She was so wet already, soaking through her panties.

How much of that was for him? Was some of it for Allen? Had she gotten wet at the thought of Allen touching her like he was just then, _his_ hand under her skirt, _his_ mouth on her neck…

Oliver growled, digging his fingers into the lacy material, right up against her clit and Felicity cried out, throwing her head back against his shoulder. He rubbed her fiercely and she gave him a soft choking sound, one hand dropping to cover his, pressing him closer. She thrust down against his fingers, trying to get more friction as he rubbed himself against her ass…

He needed her just as badly, needed the same friction she was seeking from him…

Oliver felt something primal and ugly fill him as he pinned her to the door, taking what was _his_.

No, it wasn’t his…

But he also didn’t share.

Not that he would ever tell her that, because then it would be real. And this wasn’t real.

_It wasn’t real._

With a silent, “Fuck,” Oliver shut his mind off, unwilling to explore whatever it was that was making a boulder in his chest start to feel too heavy. 

He pushed off of her, inadvertently shoving her further into the door before he grabbed her, spinning them in the room, slamming her against one of the shelves. The metal groaned, scraping on the tiled ground as something fell to the ground, but neither of them paid attention. Neither of them cared enough to stop.

Her fingers flew to his belt, undoing it in record time before she had the button undone, his zipper following as his fingers quickly unbuttoned her top, exposing the lacy demi-cup she was wearing - god, it was beautiful against her pale skin… 

They were both panting, filling the air in time with the rustle of clothes and broken pens and pencils as they stepped all over the spilled supplies. Oliver pulled her shirt open just as she yanked his pants down. They both reached for her skirt, working together to tug it up her hips. The second her leg was free, Felicity lifted it, hooking her heel on the shelf behind him, opening herself to him. Oliver inhaled sharply, his hand falling down to her thigh, cupping it, pressing his hand between her legs again.

He watched her eyes slip shut and her head fall back, thudding against the shelving as he pushed her panties out of the way, finding her naked heat again. She was dripping wet, her inner thighs slick, her sex puffy and eager, ready for his touch.

 _His_ touch… nobody else’s…

Oliver hissed, his eyes fastening on her lips, his own tingling with the need to kiss her… but he didn’t. He couldn’t. _No kissing at work_ \- it was too much, too many people would see, would know. No visible marks were to be left anywhere, nothing that would tip people off…

But fuck, he wanted to kiss her, he _needed_ to; he wanted to kiss her until she couldn’t breathe, nip at her until they were just as swollen as the rest of her. He wanted to show that she was untouchable by anyone by him, that nobody else was to have her…

With a desperate grunt, Oliver shoved those thoughts away again, shoving his face into her neck as his fingers found her tender clit. She keeled softly, digging her nails into his shoulders, arching her chest against him as he rubbed her, feeling it bead under his touch. He dipped fingers down her wet seam, her soaking entrance clenching with her need for him.

For _him_.

She was _his_.

“God,” Oliver moaned against her neck, forcing himself to not taste her, to not leave any marks where anyone could see it… despite how much he wanted to.

“Oliver,” Felicity whispered, her fingers sliding along his scalp. She suddenly gripped his hair tightly, and he jerked against her, his body responding as if she’d just fisted his cock. “Fuck me.” 

Her words were like gasoline on the need burning at his core. 

“Fuck me, Oliver… _now_.” She shoved her forehead against his, her hips moving mindlessly. “I need you, I need you in me… I need to feel you… fuck me, please…”

He didn’t have to be told twice. 

Oliver pulled his hand away and stepped back, leaving her panting against the shelving, swaying on one leg. Her heel was still hooked on the opposite shelf, her panties shoved to the side, giving him the perfect view of her beautiful reddened sex, her chest rising with her rapid breaths. Oliver found the condom he always kept in his pocket for instances just like this and shoved his pants and boxers down, ripping the condom open.

Her eyes were dark with desire, her lips swollen from biting them as he quickly rolled the condom over his erection. She licked her lips, her eyes on his cock, and the overwhelming urge to kiss her almost took over…

_Later._

“C’mere,” Oliver grunted, and he picked her up, pushing her against the shelving.

His cock slid through her wetness, catching on her panties - fuck, she felt _amazing_ \- and they both groaned, her thighs clamping around his waist. Felicity pushed her hand between them, her nimble fingers gripping him tightly, her thumb slipping over the sensitive head.

“Oh… god,” he groaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. She moved her hips, her hot breath against his temple making him shiver as she positioned him at her entrance.

Oliver thrust into her without preamble, and he slid in so easily it left them both gasping for air.

“Oooh… oh god,” she whimpered as he sunk into her. “Oh… I’m, I’m… oh!” He slid in deeper, angling his pelvis against hers, and it brushed over her clit, triggering a tiny little orgasm that had her inner walls clamping around him. He clenched his teeth together hard at the sensation, and she cried out, stiffening in his arms, her hips jerking against him as she rode it out for a second. Her body quivered against his, her nails digging into his back. Oliver pulled out and thrust back in. “Oh god!”

Oliver wrapped an arm around her waist, the other finding the shelf for leverage as he pulled out and thrust in again, filling her so perfectly, her perfect heat encasing him, her walls rippling, pulling him in deeper… 

Fuck, it was good, so good, everything he wanted, everything he needed…

_No._

He didn’t _need_ this.

“Oliver…” she breathed, her voice cracking.

Oliver hiked her up, thrusting into her with quick powerful bursts. Their skin slapped against each other, her body rocking against his, the wet sound of her sex taking over everything as she clung to him. She clung to _him_ , nobody else… she was in his arms right then, with him, and he wanted her nowhere else but there…

“Fuck!” he growled, pounding into her harder, making the shelf shake. 

One of her hands flew back, gripping the shelf as she cried out his name, _loudly_.

Panic instantly seized him, his hips slowing long enough for him to yank her hand back down, pushing it over her mouth with a severe, “Cover your mouth,” before he slipped both hands down to her hips, lifting her higher. Their eyes met, hers drugged with pleasure and anger at his demand, but she still did it, muffling the noises she made as he anchored her against the shelf and thrust, even harder.

The sight of her doing what he said, of her having nothing else to hold on to but him, covering her own mouth because she was too damn loud, because of him… it was _intoxicating_ ; his cock swelled inside her. Her fingers turned white, her eyes closed in ecstasy as he plowed into her, the soft skin on her chest and neck turning a harsh pink as he built her pleasure up… 

But it wasn’t enough. 

He needed _more_ , he needed to… 

Oliver pushed her up higher, her head banging against the shelf, her hand flailing for purchase, her cries still muffled by her other hand. He arched his back, his hips a blur as his mouth found her breast.

The hand covering her mouth suddenly found the back of his head, pressing him closer, and Oliver sucked, tugging her breast out of her bra just enough to reveal her nipple. His lips wrapped around her nipple, his teeth sinking into it, and he suddenly didn’t care that she was being too loud.

“Oh god!” she cried, her body tightening. “Oh god, yes, yes… please, please, please…” 

He kept thrusting, the shelf shaking from the force, her voice filling the space, the white hot burn of his own pleasure starting to burn at the base of his spine. He flicked his tongue over the hard nub before he pushed it up against the roof of his mouth.

She hissed his name so beautifully.

He needed _more_.

Oliver released her hard nipple, leaving it shiny and wet, and covered her upper breast again, sucking on it, _hard_. She gasped, her nails digging into his scalp.

“Oliver…” she moaned, her hips moving urgently against his. “Harder, harder… Oliver…!” She started shaking, and he knew she was close as she wrapped her arms around his head, cradling him closer as she met his thrusts, more supplies falling to the floor. “Oh god… I’m so close, I’m so… close, I’m… I’m… co… oh god, Oliver, Oliver!”

He sunk his teeth into her, and it sent her over the edge. 

Felicity came with an abrupt shout, her back bowing, his mouth still on her as she exploded around him. Her walls clamped down on him, rippling painfully with the force of her orgasm, her legs so tight he didn’t know where she began and he ended.

With a heady gasp, Oliver let her breast go, his hands sliding down her thighs, pushing her legs up against her chest, thrusting into her with wild abandon. The only thing he heard was her desperate cries as he chased his pleasure in her body, his skin slapping against hers as he pounded into her, feeling nothing but the silky warmth of her sex, her heady scent filling him as he filled her…

His pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, his muscles burning with exertion, every inch of him on fire… He gasped, his spine tingling, his balls tightening as Felicity held on to him, never letting him go; she pressed her face to the top of his head, whispering his name over and over as he thrust into her violently…

Oliver came with a ragged, “Aaahh!” as he joined her in oblivion, his cum filling the condom in heavy spurts, her walls milking him, urging more, wanting more.

“Oh god, Felicity!” he moaned hoarsely against her chest, his hips moving without rhythm, helplessly giving her everything he had before he collapsed against her.

*

Six weeks. 

It had been six weeks since that night in the grocery store, five weeks since they’d first slept together and what felt like an eternity of… absolute hell ever since. She didn’t like him; in fact, she despised him. She hadn’t liked him before they started whatever the hell this was - he pushed every single button he could get his fingers on, knowing exactly what he was doing, exactly which ones made her snap, and she kept going back for more, like a complete idiot.

She’d spent more than a few nights lying awake, staring at her ceiling, telling herself she was going to end it the next day, that she was going to walk into his office calmly, sit down and tell him that they were done, end whatever _they_ were; she didn’t even know how to define what it was - it had started out as a fluke, a tiny moment… It’d somehow ended with his lips on hers, and then a few days later her legs spread open on his desk, his fingers shoved deep inside her, their kisses bruising, her nails drawing blood before she broke the zipper on his pants in her urgency to finally feel him inside her…

They weren’t _anything_.

They were just people who fucked; they didn’t even like each other… and yet they couldn’t stay away.

They didn’t want to.

Maybe that was why the black hole in her chest was so… daunting, painful and ugly… it was all ugly, including the feeling of guilt starting to stir in her stomach at the thought of sitting next to Barry again, being as close as she had been.

 _No_.

She had nothing to feel guilty over, _nothing_. So what if he was jealous, she didn’t care. He hadn’t cared when he’d gone out with Helena, sleeping with her on their first date before coming to Felicity a few hours later. He hadn’t cared that she’d told him to fuck off, that she didn’t want someone’s sloppy leftovers… and neither of them had cared that when he didn’t go, when she’d finally snapped, shoving him against the wall of her apartment so hard it knocked a picture down, telling him over and over that she didn’t care, that she didn’t have a claim on him, that this was…

 _Nothing_.

Felicity followed Oliver through the hallway, her shaky fingers holding highlighters - _“Highlighters,” he whispered gruffly after they’d fixed their hair and straightened their clothes, stooping down to pick them up, shoving the rest of the mess they’d made off to the side as he handed them to her_ \- her breast aching where he’d sucked on her, where he’d bitten her, leaving a mark that wasn’t going to heal for weeks.

The spot was a dark, angry red, the skin splotchy; when he’d set her back on her feet, turning away from her to take the condom off, she’d traced the teeth marks he’d left on her breast with a trembling finger as he tied the condom closed, shoving it in his pants pocket.

He’d _marked_ her, in a way that she felt like she should be pissed about, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel it.

_“Oh god, Felicity!”_

She shivered, his voice still echoing in her head…

It always left her rattled when he called her by her first name.

_Always._

Oliver didn’t look back once as they reached where she and Barry had been working for most of the night. 

Barry’s eyes ticked between them, asking tentatively, “Is everything alright?”

He didn’t spare Barry a glance, instead stalking into his office, slamming the door shut behind him. She bit the inside of her lip, staring at the door for a beat before she sat back in her spot, next to Barry. He stared wide-eyed at Oliver’s office door before turning to look at her. 

“What’s his problem?”

“Oh,” Felicity started, shaking her head, giving him a weak smile as she grabbed the final draft, dropping the highlighters between them. “There are just way too many to count.”

He stared at her. “Are you alright?”

“What?” Felicity’s eyes widened as she spun to look at him, with what she suddenly hoped with guileless eyes and not guilty ones. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You’re… flushed, like you’re, I don’t know, upset or something.”

“Oh.” She blinked, and then shook her head. “No, I’m fine, just…” She took a deep breath, feeling like her lungs were barely expanding, leaving her breathless. “Just another night working for Oliver Queen, that’s all.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse. If you fancy, please let me know what you guys thought, I appreciate it so much - I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> (I woke up this morning knowing exactly what I wanted for this ficlet - it was written and edited in the space of a few hours, so all errors are a product of my messy mind.)


	3. 4:57 a.m. Oliver's Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Prompt: olicity + 69 *evil grin*
> 
> Felicity has an early meeting she needs to get to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response to this fic, you guys, I'm so glad you're enjoying it so far!
> 
>  **Content Warning:** Along with the beginning softness, I’m going to explore a darker, more carnal side of the Olicity relationship, based on the animosity that has developed between them due to their work environment. This is not a healthy relationship, by any means, and it will not be quick and easy. I also feel the need to remind people this is a version of pre-Lian Yu Oliver, this Oliver doesn't have nearly as much character growth as canon!Oliver, and Felicity's life took a few different paths as well. I’ll start getting lighter installments drafted in this series; I just really like exploring the dark, angry side of them.
> 
>  _Remember, this story is being told out of order._ To give you an idea of how much this story plan is growing, rough estimation places this ficlet at a little past the halfway point of the overall story. Now that more parts are planned and are going to be added, the timeline is really going to start jumping. I will eventually post a master timeline.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, here’s my [Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_

She groaned as the alarm clock pierced right through her brain, slicing her sleep bubble into ribbons where it blared on his side of the room. The endless, monotonous tone was so loud it echoed against the walls, bouncing back to the bed, somehow _amplifying_ it, making it even _louder_. 

What the hell had she been thinking scheduling the meeting for Saturday morning?

Felicity’s head popped up, turning to face it with an uneven glare. The little box with the bright red number shined a mocking 4:55 at her from his nightstand, a tiny red light blinking where she knew the snooze button was. She didn’t need that evil little light to show her the way; she nearly broke it every single time she was over because it was the worst sound ever to wake up to. 

Nobody woke up gently to that noise, nobody woke up _happy_ to that noise…

Oliver didn’t budge. He kept on sleeping next to her like there wasn’t a darn thing to be worried about, his chest rising in slow, even breaths, his arm still wrapped around her waist, the sheet bunched between his legs.

Felicity huffed in aggravation, her brain fuzzy and heavy with sleep as she pushed herself up and crawled over him to reach it… but it was _too far_ , and he wasn’t _moving_.

“Ugh,” she moaned. 

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_

He always chased her in their sleep, _always_. It didn’t matter how far she went or what position she ended up in, Oliver managed to find a way to curl himself around her, usually ending with both of them on her side of the bed, leaving the rest of it empty and cold… and really, really far away from the alarm clock. 

The man ran hotter than a sauna on a _good_ day, something she’d learned the hard way when the whole sleeping-at-each-other’s-apartment thing became a regular occurrence, right around the time the city had fallen under a slight heat wave, when her air conditioning had decided to stop working, leaving her apartment without a single ounce of circulation…

A giant lug of a man _adding_ to that insane level of heat had so not been the answer.

But she didn’t complain - alright, she complained a little bit, but only when he just wouldn’t get the hell off her - because when it was cold out, when the winds were whipping as they were outside just then, when the temperature kept dipping below zero? She _so_ didn’t complain. It’d taken one night for the weather to fall at an alarming rate for her to appreciate every bit of warmth he gave off - when he’d gotten up to throw the condom away, she’d curled up into a tight ball, burying herself in her comforter. He’d slipped back into bed behind her, joining her in her blanket cocoon. He’d pushed an arm under her shoulders, slipping his other around her waist, wrapping her up… it’d been one of the best nights of sleep she’d ever had.

When Oliver was there, she didn’t have to worry about being cold, ever.

It was ironic, considering.

They didn’t acknowledge the fact that they went to sleep cuddled together, arms wrapped around the other, bodies pressed as tightly as they could get, always waking in a tangled mess… no, talking had no business in those little moments.

It was just a fringe benefit, really, a fringe benefit she greatly benefited from during the winter.

End of story.

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_

“Oh my _god_ , how do you always sleep through this?” Felicity groaned, her voice raspy with sleep and annoyance, pushing herself up onto her hands and knees, crawling over him, the comforter falling away. She was still naked from the night before and the chilly air in his apartment bit at her exposed skin, making her shiver as she finally reached the nightstand. 

She slapped it once, twice… and then she finally found the devil clock’s snooze button.

Silence.

“Oh, finally,” she whispered, letting herself fall on top of him. The sheets were _cold_ on his empty side of the bed, and she shivered, letting out a pathetic whine… but she didn’t move. They’d stayed up late, too damn late, because his wicked tongue just wouldn’t _stop_ and the sudden silence was like a soothing balm, making even the ice cold sheets something she could live with as long as she got to sleep for a few more minutes.

Oliver grunted underneath her.

Felicity closed her eyes, tried to tell herself to move, to get back over there, to let herself get a few more minutes where it was warm, where she wasn’t suffocating the insufferable idiot… but lying halfway across him was suddenly extremely comfortable. 

She breathed out a soft, “Just a second,” and let sleep pull her back into its peaceful embrace.

Until Oliver grunted again and moved, jolting her awake. 

“No,” she whimpered. He jostled her even more as he slipped over onto his back. He fumbled with the sheets, finally pushing them out of the way before wrapping his arms around her hips and pulling her back to the warmth.

“C’mere,” he mumbled.

She let out a pitiful moan, but she let him roll her into her spot again where she immediately wiggled back down into his embrace. 

Oliver was still half-asleep, grumbling under his breath as he tugged the heavy comforter up over both their heads, cocooning them in a bubble that was just for them. He wrapped his arms around her and dug his face into the crook of her neck.

His ears were _ice cold_.

“Gah,” Felicity gasped, her eyes shooting open as he snuggled against her, seeking her warmth as much as she sought his. He didn’t stop, digging a burrow for himself in her arms, scraping more of his cold ears into her shoulder, pushing his face into her neck - _his nose was just as cold_ , making her gasp again, cringing away. That didn’t stop him; he cuddled her close, pushing his leg between her knees, pulling her in as much as he could before settling in with a deep sigh, one she felt through his entire body.

“Mm, better,” he sighed mindlessly, slipping back into sleep without a single pause, leaving a much more alert Felicity in his wake.

“Jerk,” she whispered, and his soft grunt was the only indication he’d heard her. 

She rolled her eyes and then wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, carding her fingers through his hair. Oliver hummed his contentment. She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, inhaling a mixture of his shampoo and her perfume deeply as she scraped her nails across the base of his skull. 

He shivered, a light trail of goosebumps erupting across his back, making a tiny noise in the back of his throat, his arms tightening.

Felicity let herself smile, for just a second.

She’d never tell him this - _ever_ \- but she loved waking up like this. She loved how cuddly he was, how much he craved touch - especially hers, it seemed. She remembered very well what it’d been like the first few times they’d slept at each other’s homes, how he’d kept himself distanced from her… and she to him. She hadn’t slept very well when he’d come over those first few times, waking every couple minutes, her eyes popping open when he’d shift or make a noise, so on guard she’d spent most of the time wondering why she didn’t just get up and kick him out or leave herself…

Despite that, it somehow kept happening, and they’d eventually slowly migrated towards each other with small touches - their hands grazing each other, fingers curling together… They’d wake with their arms touching, their feet would be tangled together… She’d wake with her arm stretched around him, her fingers in his hair, his hand on her hip, his leg pressed between hers…

It very quickly turned into more, until they didn’t even hesitate - it became an unspoken rule between them: once they were in bed, the outside world didn’t exist anymore, all bets were off. They could do this - hold each other, cuddle, simply _exist_ \- and it was okay. In this place, it was just them… and it was okay.

A low ache she didn’t want to put a name to sparked to life deep in her chest and Felicity sighed, biting her tongue.

_… and it was okay._

His breathing slowly evened out, his body growing heavier as he sank deeper into sleep. His lips parted, his breath dancing over her neck, warming her even more. 

Felicity closed her eyes, cradling him closer, pushing that ache down, deep, deep down - in this place, that didn’t exist. In this place, there was nothing but just… _existing_. She knew his alarm was going to go off in another twenty minutes, at the most, so it was time to enjoy it… before the outside world demanded attention, before she had to get up, before she had to be reminded that this, while feeling so, so good… 

It wasn’t that simple.

They’d _never_ be that simple.

As if Oliver could sense her morose thoughts, he held her closer, never waking. He stretched slightly, arching his back and then his hips… pressing his slowly growing erection up against her thigh. Felicity opened her eyes and huffed out a silent laugh, shaking her head as his hips moved again, mindlessly, seeking friction in his sleep before settling again.

Felicity slowly trailed her fingers down his neck… and down his spine. 

He made that little noise again, deep in his chest, his muscles trembling under her touch, his body naturally curving towards her for _more_.

Well… if she was awake, it was only fair he had to wake up too.

The more he moved, the thicker his erection grew, and she shifted towards him, forcing it to slip up along her leg. He moaned, his cock twitching, his hips moving to meet her.

Felicity hummed quietly, pressing her face into his hair, her fingers still dragging down his spine. She moved again, concentrating on his heavy length, on touching every inch of it with her thigh, arousal pooling between her legs, wetting her already sticky thighs from the night before. 

Oliver sighed, his fingers digging into her.

A slow needy throb started building in the pit of her stomach as she moved against him, feeling him grow harder, longer…

Felicity arched her back, pushing herself closer, causing the leg he’d slid between her knees to slide up, spreading her thighs.

If she moved just so… he’d be right where she needed him. 

She always needed him, _always_ ; it was an actual _craving_ , her need to feel him filling her, stretching her, taking her… despite her best efforts, she always felt that familiar ache tugging at her, urging her on, turning her into as much of a mindless idiot as he could be…

But right then, she wanted something else more.

Felicity licked her lips.

The only times she ever got her mouth on him was when they were at the office, or when they were in a hurry. Maybe it was the urgency, of knowing she held his pleasure in her hand, or that he’d do almost anything she asked in that moment, or maybe it was knowing she had to get him off as quickly as she could or else somebody would catch them… whatever it was that made her legs turn to jelly and her insides melt usually had her shoving him into a hidden place more often than not before falling to her knees, her fingers already unzipping his pants… 

And he knew it too.

A kind, gentle person would return the favor.

She kept learning the hard way that Oliver Queen was neither of those things.

He’d come with a silent cry, sometimes unable to stop himself from moaning her name or groaning his pleasure before he bit his lips shut. His fingers would curl in her hair as he spurted into her mouth, his hips jerking erratically while she swallowed him down… When she’d lick her lips, rubbing her thighs together, slick with need, he’d just lean down, give her chaste kiss in thank you and then pick her up with a, _“You need to fix your hair,”_ before he left.

It pissed her off every single damn time, and he knew it. It’d taken her tying him to the headboard with one of his ties and spending an hour teasing the hell out of him in retribution for him to admit he got off on the thought of her being so wet while she had him in her mouth, of her having to _wait_ , of her maybe sneaking away to take care of herself before she went back to work…

The thought of her touching herself in the office drove him crazy.

So it turned into a game after that, one that usually ended with her stepping into his office to ask his opinion on something so he could see how sated she was, so he could smell the remnants of her arousal on her fingers… and _that_ usually ended with them almost getting caught all over again because he’d push his hand up her skirt, or he’d show up at her apartment twenty minutes after the office closed, barely waiting for her to open the door before he was on her.

But right now it wasn’t a game.

Felicity pushed on his shoulder, urging him to lay back. He groaned, holding on her tighter, not letting her go. She smiled and pressed her lips to his forehead, dragging them down the bridge of his nose, down to his mouth. She gave him a soft kiss, barely a brush, and he instantly relented, letting her push him back, his arms loosening. She kissed him again, his lips barely reacting - he was still asleep - and then she moved down his chin, his jaw, pressing kisses to the soft skin beneath his harsh stubble, her hands rubbing down his shoulders and chest.

Oliver moved again, falling onto his back before scooting closer to her, his hands lazily coming up to wrap around her again, his fingers dragging down her back in a soft caress as he opened himself to her.

She took complete advantage.

Still hidden under the comforter, Felicity pushed her hair over one shoulder and dragged her lips down his throat, down to his hard chest, her hands paving the way, making him more sensitive. His hands drew up her back as she went lower, her tongue swirling around one of his nipples before continuing down, spending extra time on his abs - god, she loved his body; all those hours in the gym, pushing himself harder and harder, sculpting a body that made her weak in the knees… he was vain as hell, overly aware of how gorgeous he was and how many doors it opened for him, but in this area… she was the one who reaped the benefits. 

His erection slipped between them, sliding against her naked stomach, leaving a thin wet trail of precum across her heated skin.

Her breast brushed over the wet tip.

Oliver gasped, his hips surging up, and she splayed her hands over his lower stomach to keep him still, angling her chest so her dangling breasts brushed over him again.

“Felicity,” he whimpered, her first name rolling off his tongue so naturally it hurt. Her eyes shot up to his face, but it was pitch black under the blanket, too dark to see him. She knew he had to be struggling to wake up, or thought he was dreaming, or… _something_. Because they’d been doing this for months now and the only time he called her Felicity…

He sighed, sounding an awful lot like her name again, and her stomach clenched.

Oliver’s fingers absently tanged in her hair, sleepily urging her to continue, and she closed her eyes, shaking her head - _just exist… just exist… it’s okay here to just exist_ \- before she pressed her lips against his stomach again, working her way down.

“Yes,” he whispered, his hips bucking, his hard cock thrusting up between her breasts. Felicity dug her nails into his abdomen and he immediately stopped, but his fingers in her hair tightened.

He let out a gentle breath, shifting restlessly underneath her.

He was still asleep, probably dreaming…

“Shh,” she whispered, dragging her tongue down the deep crevice along his hip bone that led straight to where she wanted to be, where he needed her to be. He arched his back, digging his heels in as she moved, pushing his legs apart to settle between them. The musky smell of them both still lingered on his skin from a few hours ago, a heady scent that pulled at something deep within her, almost like a… _claim_.

Felicity dragged her fingertips around the base of his cock, making him gasp as she gently caressed his heavy ball sac. His hips surged up again, his hard erection brushing against her cheek, and she wrapped her hand around the base while the other cupped his balls.

Oliver came awake with a start, a breathless cry falling from his lips, his hands fisting in her hair as he choked out a rough, “Oh god,” as she sucked the tip of him into her mouth. He gasped again, his hands pushing her head down but she didn’t let him, instead swirling her tongue around the head, sucking softly, moving her hand to grasp the base of his cock in a tight fist. 

“Oh… _fuck_ ,” he whispered. His voice was heavy with sleep, low and harsh, and it sent desire whipping through her, remembering the last time he’d woken her up like this, how his voice had sounded with his face buried between her thighs.

The comforter over them moved as he lifted his head to see her, his heavy pants filling the air. She sucked on him, bobbing her head lightly, working her way down his length, her fingers squeezing him rhythmically. When she came up, her lips tightened around the tip, her tongue slipping over the little slit, sucking away the salty bead of precum waiting for her, and he groaned.

Felicity looked up at him again; it was too dark to see each other, but she knew he could perfectly imagine the way she looked right then. She knew how much he liked it, when she looked up at him.

His cock grew harder in her mouth.

“Yes,” he hissed, his head dropping back down, his back arching to keep himself from thrusting into her mouth like he wanted to. But he did sink his fingers deeper into her hair, angling her head, guiding her movements. He slid deeper into her mouth, bumping against the back of her throat, forcing her to swallow down her gag reflex, to relax her jaw, letting him in. He dug his nails into her scalp before realizing what he was doing, his hold softening as she sucked on him. “Oh, god, yes…”

Felicity tugged on his sac gently, twisting, his thighs quivering around her as she swirled her tongue around his shaft, feeling him swell, growing thicker, heavier…

Oliver gasped through little noises, through whispered words of, “Oh, god,” and “Don’t stop.” She quickened in her pace, pushing herself up to take more of him in, knowing his alarm had to be going off any second now. His muted pleas of, “Yes, yes, please,” started growing more urgent and she squeezed her lips together, scraping her teeth over the sensitive skin covering his hardness, making him jerk up, his back bowing. She grasped him tighter, wrapping her hand around his balls, squeezing as she fisted the base of his cock tightly, jerking him off as she sucked on the head, making him cry out, “Oh… fuck!”

His hands fisted in her hair once more as he started moving her, thrusting up into her mouth shallowly, her hand wrapped around him twisting with each thrust. They moved together, his harried breaths matching hers as his orgasm built, the head of his cock swelling, his balls tightening…

“Oh… god, I…” Oliver suddenly sat up and shoved the comforter out of the way. A gush of cold air attacked her exposed skin all over again and Felicity released him with a surprised shout, but he was already up, running his hands over her back, leaning over her to grasp at her hips.

“I need to taste you,” he growled, his voice still thick with sleep. The sound sent a sharp shiver down her spine as she nodded, giving him a hurried, “Okay.”

Turn around,” he breathed, tugging on her hips urgently. “Get on me.” 

Felicity got up, spinning with his guidance until she was on all fours. He dug his fingers into her hips, pulling her over him until she was flush against him, her sex right over his face, his cock slipping over her lips. Felicity gasped at the cold sheets and the cool air dancing over her wet, exposed sex, shivering at the sharp contrast to his hot skin underneath her. 

She wrapped her hand around his cock again, just as he leaned his head up and ran his tongue down her slit.

“Aah,” she whimpered, shuddering.

“God, you’re so wet,” Oliver grumbled, angling his head. He wrapped his arms around her hips and slid his hands down over her ass, spreading her cheeks before pressing his mouth to her naked sex.

“Oh god!” Felicity cried. 

Oliver slid his tongue from her clit up to her clenching entrance, slipping it inside without preamble. Felicity moaned at the sudden intrusion, her hips jerking back against his face. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, longer than he usually waited, and he had more stubble than usual… and _oh god_ , it felt _amazing_. It scraped against her tender flesh as he tasted her, his tongue pushing past her puffy nether lips over and over, _teasing_ her, wrapping around her clit… but never right where she needed him. He dodged the little pearl expertly, making her whimper.

 _Bastard_.

“Please,” she whined. Felicity rocked over him, thrusting down against his face - god, his _tongue_ …

His cock brushed over her cheek again, and she grasped him into a tight fist, making him inhale sharply, before taking his entire length into her mouth.

Oliver moaned, the sound vibrating against her, making her moan around him before she concentrated on him, just him… 

Felicity’s head bobbed as she sucked, pulling her cheeks in to create a tight suction as she slipped her hand between his legs. He spread them for her, his thighs quivering, and she tugged on his sensitive sac, making him moan, his tongue faltering… She tugged on him again, sucking on him harder and harder…

He thrust up into her mouth, his hands gripping her hips so tightly it hurt as he started licking and sucking on her without rhythm, the erratic pace making her even wetter, more needy, and she thrust down against his face.

He twisted his face to thrust his tongue into her aching channel and her clit slid over his chin, right over his sharp stubble.

A spike of pained pleasure arched through her and Felicity cried out, barely keeping her teeth from clamping down around him. _Barely_. Her teeth grazed him anyway, sliding down his length, sending him over the edge. Oliver shouted, one of his hands sliding down her back as much as he could, urging her to go faster, to suck harder, and she did…

He thrust up in her mouth, and Felicity hollowed out her cheeks. She wrapped her hand around his balls and _squeezed_.

“Oh my… oh god,” he gasped. “Yes, yes, oh god, oh…!”

Oliver came with a sharp roar, his back bowing, lifting her with him as he wrapped his arms around her body tightly, his hips shooting up in short, hard thrusts as he filled her mouth. Felicity moaned, swallowing it all down - swallowing _him _down - and a long almost anguished cry left his throat until there was nothing left, until he collapsed underneath her.__

Felicity finally let him go, his semi-erect cock falling against his thigh as she licked her lips. A thin stream of cum slipped out the corner of her mouth and she licked it away with her tongue, trying to catch her breath…

God, she needed…

Oliver laid beneath her, dazed and trembling, his hands roving over her back, holding her against him tightly.

She shifted, her sex grazing against him again.

Need tramped through her body, need so potent it burned. It was like that little scrap of his stubble against her had set something off and now that he’d come, now that she didn’t have anything to concentrate on… _god_ , she needed to come, she needed to come so bad it _hurt_. 

Felicity pushed herself up, moaning when his chin slid over her aching sex again.

“Oliver,” she moaned, her hips rotating for more - more friction, more _anything_. “Oliver… please, I need…”

His hands grew firm, sliding down to grip her hips. He gripped her skin tightly, and the harsh move tugged on her sex, sending her need even higher.

“Please,” she whimpered. “I need to come… Oliver…”

“Move back,” he whispered, pulling on her. “Sit on my face.”

Felicity nodded frantically and she sat up, bracing herself on his stomach as she pushed herself back so her soaking sex hovered over him. Oliver hooked his arms around her hips, pulling down…

His tongue met her dripping entrance again.

“Yes!” she moaned, arching her back, her nails digging into his abdomen, grinding down on his face. His nose slipped against the sensitive flesh, his stubble scraping _everything_ … She cried out, rocking against his mouth… but he just licked her, _slowly_ , making the burn deep inside her turn into a white hot need that made her want to scream. Felicity dug her nails into him again, gasping, “Harder, please, harder… _harder_.”

Oliver’s lips found her clit, his tongue darting out, flicking against it with purpose, making her keen. He slipped his hands down from around her and found hers, pushing them underneath until their fingers tangled as he started lightly sucking on her. He pulled on her clit, on her nether lips, giving her just enough to build her need as she rode his face, but never _enough_.

“Oliver,” she whimpered, tossing her head back. Her hair dangled over her back, making her shiver, her nipples growing harder in the cool air as his hands tightened around hers, matching her grip. 

He licked and sucked, expertly dodging right where she needed him.

“God,” she gasped, clenching her teeth.

The need for release was urgent, so urgent, rushing through her with a tenacity that left her painfully breathless. 

He was taking his time, tasting her, dragging his tongue everywhere… _teasing her_.

Felicity lifted herself to get more friction but he just lifted his head, following her, doing what he wanted. His tongue slipped over her clit again, longer this time, but not long enough. 

She mewled his name, dropping down on him hard, rocking against him but he just pulled back, making her cry out in frustration.

“Please, please, please… Oliver, please… I need to come, please…”

Oliver’s chest rose underneath, taking a deep breath, inhaling her… 

“Please…”

And then he shoved his face against her, flattening his tongue over her clit, an assault that shot through her so swiftly it left her gasping for air as he started eating her out with a ferocity that left her spinning.

“Oh god!” Felicity gasped, her voice ending in a sharp cry. She leaned on his hands, her nails digging into his as her hips rocked against him, riding his face, her orgasm building with alarming alacrity. She was so sensitive, so primed from his teasing, from having him in her mouth, from making him come, from hearing his pleasured shouts as he’d filled her mouth… Heat rushed over the surface of her skin, everything roaring towards her center as she thrust down on him, her cries growing louder and louder… every inch of her was focused on his mouth, on his fingers gripping hers, on her hips rocking against his tongue, against his face, riding him… 

Her pleasure blossomed deep inside her, burning her from the inside out…

“Yes, yes, oh god!” she shouted, thrusting down on his face. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t…!”

Oliver wrapped his lips around her clit and _sucked_ , his tongue rubbing in quick sure motions, motions that had her jerking erratically before she hit that peak, that beautiful crest of pleasure… 

Felicity came with a ragged shout, her voice echoing off the walls as her pleasure exploded. He didn’t let her go and she cried out again as he pushed her higher, the pleasure racing over every single nerve in tiny pinpricks that grew sharper and sharper until it was too much, until she couldn’t handle any more.

She fell apart on top of him, the world fading into nothingness…

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Felicity groaned at the evil monotonous sound coming back to life, but before she could become fully aware of it, Oliver turned it off. 

Her lids were heavy, her skin tingly and sensitive, everything languid and perfect and delicious… 

He slowly slid her off him and she did nothing to help, landing in a boneless pile with her head at the foot of the bed, completely useless as he readjusted the comforter before joining her, draping the blanket over them again.

Oliver wrapped her up in his arms and she moaned, warmth and satisfaction thrumming across her skin. She snuggled against him, pushing her face into his neck with a content sigh, smelling herself in his beard. He kissed her temple softly as he tangled their legs together, his thigh slipping between hers again.

She pulled her knee up, cradling him closer and he pressed his face into her hair, inhaling deeply.

Felicity remembered being awake one second, absently thinking she had to get up because she had to get home and shower - any other Saturday she would’ve been content to stay right there, but she couldn’t… not that Saturday…

“Just a few more minutes,” Oliver said, his voice muffled - had she been talking out loud?

She could handle a few more minutes.

Felicity nodded, cuddling closer, taking a deep breath…

And in the next second she was fast asleep.

*

Felicity’s phone was ringing. 

He knew it was her phone because her general ringtone was the X-Files theme, which he’d found out when she’d lost her phone several weeks back and he’d called it, finding out she’d assigned the Imperial March from Star Wars to his phone number. 

When she’d seen the look on his face, she’d laughed, asking, _“You’re really surprised?”_

Light shone through the thick comforter, telling him it was well past ten in the morning. They hadn’t budged an inch from where they’d wrapped themselves around each other a few hours ago, after she’d woken him with her mouth - his arousal stirred all over again at the thought of it, the sounds she’d made when he’d put his mouth on her, how mindless …

It was definitely a day for staying in bed. 

Whatever the hell she was going to do at the office could wait.

Felicity shifted as her ringtone faded and Oliver whispered, “Stay here,” into her hair.

She sighed, settling down again… but then the damn thing started ringing again, jerking her awake. She pushed away from his chest, croaking out a bleary, “What?” as she looked around.

“Don’t go,” he said, pulling her back against his chest, and she moaned, fighting him for just a second before she let him pull her back into his arms…

He felt the instant it hit her.

“Frak,” she gasped, shoving away from him and sitting up, disrupting their blanket cocoon. “Oh _frak_ … no, no, no, what time is it?” 

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Oliver replied, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her back down. “Don’t go.”

Felicity pushed away from him, yanking the blanket down, sending a shaft of sunlight into the dark space, right into his face, blinding him. Oliver cursed as she shoved her way out and crawled up the bed to her nightstand, grabbing her phone.

“Oh my god, it’s _ten_ , how did…” Felicity yanked her phone off its charger. “You turned the alarm off? Why’d you turn it off, Oliver, I _told_ you I had to get up!”

“What’s the big deal?” he asked, pulling the blanket back over his face. “It’s Saturday, Smoak, the office can wait.”

She huffed out an exasperated, “I cannot believe…” before answering with a harried, “Hello?”

Oliver moved his legs so his feet were pressing against her naked hip through the comforter where she kneeled at the head of the bed and she elbowed him in the shin.

“Ow,” he said with a little laugh, moving to nudge her again when he heard a bright response from the other end of her phone. All his amusement drained away as she said, “Hi, Mr. Palmer, hi! I’m so, so sorry I’m late, this isn’t… I’m not a late person, I’m not late to things. This is really, really not the first impression I wanted to give, especially because you’re offering… this is such a huge opportunity, and I don’t want you to think I’m blowing you off or I’m not grateful, because I am. I’m so sorry.”

_Palmer?_

Oliver pushed himself up onto an elbow and yanked the blanket from over him, looking at her, but she had her eyes closed, the back of her fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose, an intense mixture of regret and anger pulling at her features as she nodded. 

She was talking to Palmer, to _Ray_ Palmer?

He said something on the other end and a smile split her face as she blinked, like she was surprised, and Oliver’s heart stopped at the sight.

He slowly sat up as she said, “That is… really… thank you. I’m grateful to hear that, because _that_ is me, all the time. _This_ , this isn’t me, I’m not like this. Ever. Usually. I can pull my entire attendance history at Queen & Queen, I can do it right now actually…” 

“What?” Oliver asked, not liking the sound of that one bit - what the hell did she need her attendance schedule for? 

Felicity waved him off, shooting him a hard glare 

“… because I’ve _never_ been late… And I’m just now realizing that sounds like a really weird thing to say, because I’m not HR - not that HR is a _person_ , but I can…” 

Oliver reached over and snatched her hand out of the air. 

She clenched her jaw, pulling it back, scooting further up the bed. 

He moved to follow her but she stopped him, tugging the sheet between them up - like a barrier - to cover her body.

“Yes… yes, exactly, that is what I meant,” she said, relief suffusing her tone; it was the complete antithesis to the aggravation coloring her eyes as she wrapped the sheet tightly around her chest.

Oliver stared at her, willing her to look at him.

She didn’t.

He took a slow breath. 

No, it couldn’t be what he thought it was, right? She wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t…

Would she?

His sleep-addled brain struggled to muddle through what she was saying… but it only came up with _one_ thing.

“Felicity…” he started, her name slipping out before he could stop it, and she stiffened, startled eyes flying to his - she always flinched when he said her first name, like she didn’t like the way it sounded coming from his lips, like it was crossing a line. She blinked and they just stared at each other for a second, the air becoming thick and unbreathable, making Oliver feel like he’d done something wrong - he didn’t like it, because he _hadn’t_ done something wrong, damn it.

What the hell was going on?

Felicity abruptly shut down, her look becoming shuttered, and Oliver frowned. He moved to grab her hand again but she stood up, taking the sheet with her.

The contentment he’d been swimming in a moment ago - the contentment her goddamn ringtone had sliced through like it was nothing - disappeared as the meaning of what she was saying finally sank in.

_No._

She was leaving.

Oliver suddenly remembered something Palmer had said, during the single visit he’d paid to the office for a tour, something about knowing of Felicity. She’d blushed, ducking her head, a contagious grin decorating her gorgeous lips, one that Palmer had readily returned. He’d been there to go through their most recent security measures, security measures he needed to count on for a high profile acquisition in his company’s future, an acquisition that required far more security than his current firm offered… 

And he’d specifically requested Felicity. 

Oliver had followed behind them as Felicity went through the specs of the tech department, barely getting a word in as they’d talked animatedly, finishing each other’s sentences and jumping topics faster than Oliver could blink…

It was obvious to anyone within a three-mile vicinity that he was attracted to her, and he’d spent the entire time asking her questions, picking her brain, following her into the breakroom when she offered coffee, always having a response, always having a follow-up question…

And she’d gone to him like a moth to a flame.

Oliver hadn’t liked it one bit.

But he’d bitten his tongue, because the Allen thing was still a sore issue between them. Ever since the kid had moved to Central City, ever since Felicity had gone to visit him a few times, they just stopped mentioning him altogether, which was why Oliver didn’t bring the tour up later that night - bring up anything Palmer-related at all actually - especially when he did decide to go with Queen & Queen for the acquisition deal…

Felicity would never cross _that_ line, dating a client, he knew that… 

But _this_?

_Leaving?_

How long had she been planning this? Palmer had been in last month, had they been talking that entire time? Had she been thinking about leaving the entire time? 

They were together every single day, almost every single night, and she hadn’t thought to mention, _“Oh, hey, I’m looking for another job, FYI.”_

Anger churned in his gut and Oliver gritted his teeth, throwing the comforter off. He grabbed his crumpled boxers from the floor and slid them on, his ears burning as Felicity continued talking, doing a very, very good ignoring his eyes drilling a hole in the side of her head.

“Oh no, I’m fine, just… lost track of time. I definitely still want to meet with you, if that’s… really?” Oliver caught her face lightening and the way her entire body sagged just before she turned her back to him. “Great! Yes, yes, thank you, that… thank you. I’ll be right there. Okay, yes… yes, bye.”

Felicity hung up with a soft, “Oh, thank the Google gods,” and a deep breath before she spun to face him. 

Gone was the happy, grateful Felicity who’d been talking to the guy who was apparently going to be her new boss, and in her place was a wall of anger so vivid it almost made Oliver pause. 

_Almost._

“Thanks _a lot_ ,” she bit out with a hard glare. She tossed her phone on the nightstand and tugged the sheet up jerkily. “I can’t believe you…” She cut herself off with a tiny shake of her head and an exasperated noise before she scanned the room, stooping down to pick up her skirt. “I specifically _told_ you I had to get up.”

“I remember it waking you up just fine,” Oliver said snidely, picking up her shirt before she could. Felicity shot him a dark look and he returned it with just as much force, tossing the silky material at her. “Although it would’ve been nice to know the thing you had to be up for was a goddamn job interview. Were you even going to tell me, or were you just going to sneak out?”

“Don’t you…” Felicity caught her shirt, leveling him with a hard look. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Oliver.”

“When you’re going for job interviews with Ray fucking Palmer on a Saturday morning, yeah, you damn well do!”

“Don’t you dare talk to me that way!” she snapped, shoving her finger in his face. “ _You_ don’t get to talk to me like that.”

“Then don’t give me a _reason_ to, Felicity,” he retorted, instantly regretting it when she visibly flinched.

“Excuse me? Don’t give you a _reason_? What the hell do you think this is, Oliver? Did I miss the memo that we’re supposed to actually _tell_ each other things like this? Share? Are we _fuckbuddies_ who share now?”

Oliver’s mouth turned sour and his eyes slipped shut at the reminder of his very poor choice of words. He clenched his jaw. “That’s not…” His eyes snapped back open when he heard her moving around him, picking up the rest of her clothes. “Felicity, stop.”

She inhaled sharply, cringing, barely, but he caught it just as she grabbed her bra where it hung on a lampshade and turned to the bathroom.

“Hey, wait, no, stop,” he said, darting after her. He grabbed her arm, pulling her to stop as he put himself between her and the bathroom. “We need to talk about this.”

“No, we really don’t,” Felicity said. “You’re not my boss right now, Oliver, you’re the guy I’m sleeping with.” The simple matter-of-fact tone in her voice made his stomach clench wildly, even though that was all she was doing: stating a fact. It was _fact_. They were just sleeping together, they weren’t anything... and yet stomach acid pushed its way up his gullet, almost making him gag. “And I’m not talking about this stuff with that guy. _Ever_. Now _move_ , I need to go.”

“No,” he said, mirroring her step when she moved to go around him.

“No?” she repeated incredulously.

Oliver opened his mouth to tell her all the reasons _why_ … but nothing came out.

Because it was just… 

_No_.

She couldn’t leave. 

_You can’t leave._

The certainty was staggering, making his gut twist. She couldn’t leave, he didn’t want her to leave. He didn’t care how selfish that made him, he didn’t care that it wasn’t fair to her, he didn’t _care… she couldn’t leave._

_You can’t leave._

The words turned into boulders in his chest, growing bigger and heavier with each passing second they stayed inside, sinking further and further…

_You can’t leave me._

“You… you can’t leave,” he finally said.

“Tough.” She stepped around him and he immediately followed her, stopping in her path again. “Oliver, move!”

“No, damn it, you’re not quitting! You’re not leaving Q and Q, I’m not…”

“You’re seriously standing here, telling me I can’t quit?” Felicity demanded, her voice rising. “I didn’t realize I had to get your _permission_ , Oliver, should I have submitted my request in writing? Would that have been sufficient?”

“More sufficient than hearing about it like this!” he said, his voice way too loud - but damn it, he couldn’t help it.

_She couldn’t leave._

Felicity narrowed her eyes, cocking her head with an ugly fascination.

“Like what? By _eavesdropping_ on my private conversation?” she asked, her voice full of venom. “You don’t get to pretend like you have a _right_ to know these sorts of things about me, Oliver. We’re _nothing_ , remember?” Oliver jerked back at her harsh tone, like she’d just slapped him. “That means the most information we get to exchange is what kind of condom you’re using this time. That’s it, that’s all. And I am _not_ leaving without giving my notice, you asshole, because I’m a good damn employee, and you _know_ that, Oliver - you _know_ I wouldn’t leave Q and Q hanging, no matter how much my freaking incompetent my boss deserves it.

“Now _move_.” She brushed past him. “I have to go.”

Oliver didn’t stop her

She stalked past him and into the bathroom, closing the door with enough force to make him wince.

He heard her throwing her clothes on the sink, heard her pushing the toilet seat up, heard her whispered words as she went to the bathroom, as she washed her hands and face, heard her frustrated sniffling…

_“We’re nothing, remember? That means the most information we get to exchange is what kind of condom you’re using this time.”_

She got dressed in record time.

_“That’s it, that’s all.”_

Oliver was reeling. He couldn’t explain it - he didn’t understand _why_ , why his stomach was twisting, why spikes of adrenaline were stabbing him in the chest, making his limbs feel shaky and unstable… why he wanted to grab her, tell her she couldn’t go, he didn’t want her to go… No, he knew why. He’d known for a while now, but they weren’t… like that. That wasn’t them.

_She wasn’t his._

He couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was suddenly slipping through his fingers.

_Say something._

And all he was doing was standing back, letting it happen.

_Not like this, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Things were good, they were working…_

He couldn’t lose her, and he knew if she left Q and Q, if she went away, if she left him… it would be over.

_No._

But he didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. 

He did nothing.

When Felicity left the bathroom, brushing past him, his hand dropped instinctively to grab her but she dodged him, not even sparing him a glance as she picked up her shoes and purse, thrusting her hand in to find her keys. She walked over to the nightstand - to her nightstand - and picked up her phone. She yanked her phone charger out of the wall, shoving it into her purse before leaving the room, walking right past him as if he wasn’t even there.

He heard her drop her heels on the tile at the entrance of his apartment, slipping them on and the sound of her opening the front door.

She left without a backwards glance, and he didn’t stop her.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse! Thank you for reading!


	4. 9:23 a.m. Felicity’s Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous - Smutty drabble dialog: "I'll buy you a new one.”
> 
> Morning pit-stops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the amazing response to this fic, everyone! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying it. I appreciate every single kudos and comment, it means so much!
> 
> Reminder: This story is being told out of order! I will post a masterlist, but as the ficlets stand right now, they are in order time-wise.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, here’s [my Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).

  
  
  
  


“I’ll buy you a new one.”

Felicity dragged her fingers down his back, her eyes on her hand as she drew lazy, uneven circles with her nails. She followed the dips and ridges of his muscles, her hand rising with his amused chuckle. His skin was still damp with sweat from his run over to her place - ever since he’d moved closer, literally within walking distance, it’d become a new morning _thing_ , his stopping over after he did his laps. 

While they were taking it a little bit slower this time around, letting things unravel differently, not sleeping at each other’s places just yet, it didn’t mean they couldn’t _do stuff_.

They were really, really good at that stuff.

Oliver lifted his head, readjusting the pillow before settling again, his eyes never leaving her and she rolled her lips to keep herself from smiling under his gaze. 

He didn’t respond and she finally looked back at him. 

He was grinning.

“What?” she asked. 

“That’s the third one you’ve torn, Smoak, I’m pretty sure you owe me more than _one_.”

She shrugged, making a face.

Felicity scooted closer to him, increasing the pressure in her palm as she rubbed his back. His eyes fluttered shut, his smile softening as he melted under her touch, relaxing into the mattress, completely and totally content. She stared at him, watching the lines in his face ease away, the frown line between his brows she always found herself touching - he hadn’t had it before, before the accident, and it’d only grown deeper each time she saw him until… well, until… 

The line disappeared as he gave himself over to her.

Felicity leaned in, pressing her lips to his forehead, to that spot she pressed her fingers to when the weight on his shoulders was too much, when everything caught up with him, and he sighed deeply, leaning into her. She peppered butterfly kisses over his brow and down the bridge of his nose, moving across his cheek until she found his ear.

“Stop wearing them then,” she whispered and Oliver laughed. She grinned, hugging him closer as she kissed the shell of his ear before digging her face into his neck, his stubble scratching along her face, his skin still hot from his run.

“Should I run naked then?” he asked, his voice soft, angling his head to give her more access to his throat.

“Not _completely_ naked,” Felicity replied, leaving a trail of wet kisses in her wake. Oliver hummed his approval, turning his head to kiss her jaw. “Just….” She pulled back, dragging her hand across the smooth, warm skin of his back as she looked down at him. “You know… half-naked. In here. For me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you can run in one spot, it’ll be the new thing.”

“Mm, right, because that’ll last long,” Oliver said, his voice lazy with contentment. “Which half?”

Felicity bit her bottom lip and settled back, her hand never leaving his skin as she found her pillow again, laying face-to-face with him.

“The lower half,” she said matter-of-factly. “Obviously.” 

Oliver laughed again, the sound echoing through the bedroom, the unencumbered sound making her smile.

“I like this,” Felicity said, running her palm over his shoulder. She hadn’t painted her nails yet and the sight of them, naked against his naked skin, was oddly comforting.

“What’s that?” he asked and she met his eyes again.

He was smiling.

She _loved_ when he smiled.

“You,” she replied. “Being here.”

Oliver took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he looked at her.

It’d taken her a long, long time to _not_ look away every time he looked at her like that. They’d spent so many years training themselves to not look at the other - to not share those kinds of looks, to pretend nothing existed between them - that when the time came when it was finally okay, when she was allowed to look at him like that… 

At first, it’d started with just meeting his steady gaze - he hadn’t had a problem with it, it seemed, and when she’d asked him about it he said he’d stopped caring what other people saw a long time ago - and then it was getting used to the way her heart jumped in her chest, how her palms got sweaty when she saw the intensity in his face, to _not_ shake like a leaf in a tornado when their eyes found each other because this… _them_ … 

It was happening, it was _real_.

“Me too,” Oliver whispered…

… and her heart skipped a couple dozen beats. 

Her cheeks grew warm, the warmth spreading across her face and down her chest - she was _blushing_ , she couldn’t believe how much she blushed anymore - and she looked down, smiling ruefully at herself. 

Oliver lifted his head slightly, moving closer. “What is it?”

“I’m just…” Felicity faltered, staring at his shoulder, at her naked nails on his shoulder, at how intimate they looked there. She slowly raised her eyes, meeting his again…

She didn’t have to say anything, because he knew, because he felt the same.

Oliver grinned, and leaned over, kissing her softly. She sighed against his lips, returning it with a gentleness that made her chest ache. They kissed once, twice, three times… both of them smiling like the idiots they were before he finally pulled back…

And then he got up.

“What, no, where are you going?” Felicity asked, holding onto his shoulder as he crawled over her.

“I have to get back to my place and change,” he said. Her hand dragged down his arm, to his wrist… “I have to get… oof!”

Felicity tugged on him, yanking him backwards, causing him to lose his balance.

She giggled as he landed on his side, narrowly missing crushing her, and she took complete advantage, pulling on him until he was forced to roll on top of her. She spread her legs under the comforter, accepting his weight, wrapping them around him as much as she could, winding her arms around his neck, effectively anchoring herself to him…

But Oliver was prepared, almost like he’d been expecting it, and he didn’t waste a single second as he said, “You little…” before his fingers were attacking her through the comforter, tickling her sides, making her shriek.

“Oliver, no!” she shouted, laughter lacing her words and his response was to laugh himself and shove his face into her neck, rasping his beard across her sensitive skin, right where he knew she was ticklish. Felicity shrieked even louder, laughing as she surged under him, trying to shove him off her but he was dead weight, pinning her down. “Stop, stop, stop! No… stop…! Oliver!” 

He didn’t stop and she bucked even more, desperately trying to get away from his fingers and his face, his assault never relenting…

“Oliver, stop!” she yelped, her words breathless with pained mirth and the anxious need to get the hell away. “Please, I can’t…!”

She finally got him to roll off her long enough for her to catch her breath, and she tried to crawl away, but in the blink of an eye he was back on her.

“No!” Felicity cried with a laugh, shoving on his shoulders but Oliver grabbed her hands, pinning them over her head. 

She fought to breathe, the comforter that had been so warm and comfortable a second ago now achingly hot from the sudden exertions, her chest heaving as he hovered over her…

_Laughing_.

The bastard was _laughing_.

“That was so uncalled for,” she breathed, trying to keep the smile off her lips as she scolded him. “That was so mean!”

“You’re the one that started it,” he said.

“I just wanted a _hug_ ,” Felicity countered, straining her arms but Oliver kept them pinned over her head. 

He wiggled, pressing her legs open, burrowing his way between her thighs again. She spread for him, feeling his weight through the blanket, her breath catching a little when she felt his growing hardness pressing against her. He nudged her head up, exposing her neck to his lips, his nose trailing over her pulse point, that delicious beard he hadn’t trimmed in a few days scratching at her.

“If I’d known hugs came with ruthless attacks,” she whispered, her words faltering slightly as he worked his way down. “I wouldn’t’ve… oh…”

Oliver’s lips fell on her collarbone, following it to her shoulder, leaving a trail of wetness behind him as he tugged her hands down, pinning them beside her head, exposing more of her to his mouth. Felicity hummed, giving him more access, tightening her thighs around him, pulling him in closer. His hardening bulge pressed against her center, making her throb, and her mouth fell open as her breath caught. Oliver pressed her down into the mattress, arching his hips into hers as he worked his way back to her neck, his teeth nipping at her…

“Oh… god, I want you to keep doing that but we both know it’ll leave a mark,” Felicity moaned, turning her face to press against the side of his head. 

He chuckled, his tongue laving the spot gently before her pulled back. Oliver looked down at her, amusement filling the lines in his face. He pushed his fingers between hers, still keeping them pinned to the bed as he arched his back, pushing the full length of his body against hers. 

Felicity’s mouth fell open, her eyes fluttering shut at the pleasurable pressure as he leaned down, giving her a soft, simple kiss. She moaned, opening her mouth to his, running her tongue along the seam of his lips, prompting him to open for her. His moan matched hers as she deepened the kiss, and he angled his head to taste more of her as he slid their hands back over her head.

“Mm,” he murmured, pulling back, his lips moving against hers. “I really do have to go.”

“Stay,” she whispered, licking his lips. “Don’t go.”

“I need to get to the farmer’s market before all the good stuff’s gone.” He kissed her, not moving. “It’s Saturday, Smoak, the morning crowds are ugly.”

“We’ll order in.”

“You want me to cook,” he reminded her, nuzzling her face.

“I _wanted_ you to cook,” she corrected, squeezing his hands. “But that’s only because I don’t want my mom to die from food poisoning, which we both know she would if I cooked or used the expired stuff in my kitchen.” He chuckled. “A restaurant takes care of everything.”

“I do want to make a good impression, you know,” he said, arching his hips into hers again, making her groan. “And that means… getting up.” 

He kissed her one last time, cutting her off before she could say anything in rebuttal, and then rolled off her again, standing before she could so much as move. Felicity pouted as Oliver grabbed his sweats, twisting under the comforter to face him. He stared down at her, the heat in his eyes palpable, his eyes hooded. 

“Get back in here,” she whispered, stretching enticingly, settling further into the bed, and he narrowed his eyes.

His boxers were tented with his hard-on, one he was annoyingly willing to ignore.

Oliver picked up his shirt, leaving his torn sweatshirt on the floor.

Felicity slid one hand up into the pillows, the other slipping under the comforter.

His eyes followed her every movement.

“Are you sure I can’t entice you to stay?” she asked, biting her lip, arching her back, sliding her hand down her naked chest and stomach to her panties under the blanket. She ran her fingers over the damp material, feeling how slick she already was as she moved her thighs.

Oliver groaned. “I’m coming straight here after the market.”

“That’s so far away though.”

“Trust me,” he said, leaning down to give her a quick kiss before he made his way to the bathroom. “I will not be long.”

Felicity watched him go, her hand still between her thighs.

She sighed, frowning… before she started rubbing gently. It wasn’t what she wanted - she wanted _him_ \- but it still felt good, her fingers sending a soft pleasurable zing straight to her center. She hummed under her breath, pulling her legs up, spreading them as she settled further into the pillows. 

She heard him in the bathroom, heard him turning the sink on…

Felicity rubbed herself through her panties, moaning quietly.

She imagined it was his hand on her, his fingers rubbing her clit through the cotton, his fingers feeling how wet she was, how her juices were soaking through them. Felicity spread her legs wider, biting her lip as she arched her back, thrusting up into her hand. She drew slow circles around her clit, gradually pushing down harder, her mind feeling Oliver’s touch, her mind feeling him on top of her, his heavy length slowly filling her.

“Oh,” she whimpered and she pushed her fingers into her panties. She bit her lip harder when she felt how wet she was - she was so wet, so, so wet, and the thought of Oliver only made her wetter… she spread her juices all over, right over her engorged clit, making her moan.

It felt so good… just like she knew he’d feel so good, surging into her, filling her, his drugging kisses pulling her under as he thrust into her, over and over, reaching between them to finger her clit, to _pinch_ it…

Felicity did just that and it made her hips jerk up.

She vaguely heard a quiet choking noise… and then the comforter was being whipped off her. 

Her hand froze, her eyes flying open in surprise at the shocking loss of her warm comforter cocoon, her nipples hardening painfully as her head shot up to find Oliver sprawled over the foot of the bed, frenzied fingers were sliding into her panties, tugging them down.

“Oliver…!” she gasped, moving to lift her hips to help but she wasn’t fast enough.

He ripped them along a seam, doing the same to the other side and yanked them out from under her, tossing the shredded panties over his shoulder.

“Hey!”

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he growled, gripping her hips tightly, yanking her further down the bed, closer to his mouth, forcing her legs to fall open even further, spreading her open before him. He took a deep breath, inhaling her, and that act alone made her whimper. “God, watching you touch yourself like that…”

“Oliver…” Felicity fought to sit up, to see what he was doing, but he tugged on her again, and she fell back, fisting the sheets, her feet landing on his shoulders. “Please…”

His mouth covered her completely, his tongue sliding through her puffy nether lips, slipping over her entrance as his nose teased her clit before he wrapped his lips around it, flicking his tongue over it in a rapid, angry fashion. 

Felicity yelped, her hands flying to his head, shoving him closer as she arched her hips up off the bed, yearning towards him. 

The orgasm she’d slowly been building herself towards came back with a vicious vengeance as he sucked on her, concentrating solely on her clit, his large hands gripping her hips from underneath, keeping her nailed to the bed as he imitated what her fingers had been doing a second ago. He was relentless, building her release without preamble, sucking on her so hard she forgot how to breath as every inch of her concentration was on his tongue and his lips, on his stubbled chin rubbing right against her entrance, on his wonderfully talented mouth sucking on her clit like it was all he wanted to do for the rest of the day.

“Oh god, oh god, oh… _god_ ,” Felicity keened, thrusting up against his mouth, lifting her head to watch him between her legs. The thin patch of hair she left down there framed his face, framed his heavy-lidded eyes as he stared at her, setting her skin on fire. 

She watched the muscles in his face contracting with his movements as his tongue worked her clit over and over and over…

A swath of heat shot through her, igniting her from the inside out, everything rushing towards her center, the white hot coil inside her tightening until…

Oliver shoved her over the edge hard and quick, sending the orgasm crashing through her. The wild yell that fell from her lips echoed through the bedroom as she fell back on the bed, her hands shoving him deeper between her legs, her body undulating underneath him as she rode it out, pleasure swamping her…

Felicity cried out, the sound more like a pathetic whine as he licked her clit clean, swirling his tongue around it…

But he wasn’t done. 

She was limp underneath him, completely limp, and he scooted up on the bed, letting one of her legs fall down, his shoulder pushing her other up, spreading her wider. Felicity whimpered, trying to lift her head to see what he was doing, but all her muscles were useless.

Oliver dropped kisses over her stomach, his chin wet with her juices, leaving wet spots all over her. The hand of the shoulder pushing her leg up drifted up her body, his fingers skating over her chest before he cupped one of her breasts. He squeezed her nipple, making her moan pitifully, and she hissed his name in reprimand… until she felt what his other hand was doing.

His fingers drifted lazily through her wetness, spreading it around. 

_Oh no_.

“Oliver,” she whimpered, shaking her head. “I can’t, I can’t…”

He rested his head on her stomach, digging his face into her abdomen, and she _felt_ him smiling against her, his fingers grazing her sensitive clit. She cried out as a shot of pained pleasure soared through her, her hips jerking.

“Oliver… please… I can’t…”

“We both know you can,” he whispered, and she shuddered at the feeling of his lips moving against her lower stomach. “Shh…”

“Oliver…!”

He slid his middle and ring finger deep inside her, making her choke on her words. He _gripped_ her from the inside, cupping her sex as he slid his fingers up along her inner wall, searching for…

“Oh god,” Felicity moaned, her head thrashing on the bed as he found _that spot_. She grabbed his head again, one hand fisting his hair as the other cupped his jaw, holding onto him for dear life. “Oh god!”

The pleasure was different this time, just as it was whenever he found her g-spot.

He rubbed against the ridged mound deep inside her, moving gently at first, letting her get used to the feeling of his fingers pressing her open as they were, spreading her, getting her ready. She knew what he was feeling, because he’d once described in explicit detail what he was doing to her before he’d sent her spiraling so high she’d nearly blacked out; she knew the mound swelled, grew under his touch the more he rubbed, mirroring the bone-deep pleasure he gave her…

It burned hot and _low_ , deep inside her, sliding through her veins like _acid_ , flowing straight to her center. It wasn’t as sharp or direct as when he’d been on her clit, it was something else completely, something so, so… so _good_.

_Better_.

Felicity gave him a guttural groan, and he took that as his cue.

Using his arm spread over her chest, Oliver gripped her breast tightly and pinned her to the bed again, pressing his face into her lower stomach as his hand started moving in and out of her in an upwards motion that pushed his fingers right against that delicious spot, over and over… 

“I… Oli… ver… god!”

Faster and faster…

Heated pricks of pleasure cascaded through her body, all emanating from the spot he was concentrating on, traveling through her before whipping back around, heading straight back to her core in a wash of heat that left her feeling like she was simultaneously flying apart at the seams while everything tightened to the point of pain.

“Oh… oh, ah, ah…!” 

Oliver moved faster, pushing his face into her stomach, forcing her inner wall _closer_ to his fingers deep inside her, increasing the pressure. The sound of his fingers shoving in and out of her wet sex echoed her cries, echoed his whispered words against her skin as Felicity dug her nails in where she held him, the bed starting to shake with his efforts. 

Felicity’s cries lost all sense and rhythm as he built her up, the pleasure radiating through her. 

She was holding him so tight, too tight, but she couldn’t stop, she couldn’t do anything but _feel_ , feel him deep inside her… 

Her body quaked, her every inch of her quivering with unrestrained desire and need and _pleasure_ , god, the pleasure he was giving her, it was…

Her core _burned_ , a deep pressure growing inside her, and her body clenched around him, fighting it just as much as she earned for it.

It was too much, but it wasn’t enough; she wanted more but she wanted to get away… the knowledge that he wouldn’t let her, that he’d keep there, doing what he wanted to her, it sent her over the edge… 

“Ah, ah, ah, aahh, oh… ah!” 

… and she gave him _everything_.

Felicity flew apart. 

She came with a heady shout, the pleasure bursting inside her in a heated rush, the hot, heavy gush of her release coating him. He kept moving, kept rubbing, urging more and more out of her, Felicity’s voice growing hoarse as she cried out his name, her body arching into him, curling around him, trying to get closer, wanting him to never stop, never stop… 

Oliver kept her pinned to the bed, his hand massaging her breast, his fingers scraping over her delicate nipple as his face pushed into her stomach, using his weight to keep her down as her hips jerked into his hand, riding his fingers until she had nothing left.

The next few minutes were kind of a blur.

Oliver pulled out of her, releasing her, leaving her on the bed as he stood… and then he was lifting her up, cradling her against his chest. 

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck as he walked to the bathroom, pausing when she felt his wet shoulder.

“Oh,” she said, dazed. “Did I do that?”

Oliver laughed. The sound rumbled through his chest and across her sensitive skin. 

“Yes, you did,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he leaned over to turn the bathroom light on. “And now we both need a shower.”

“Mm, shower,” she moaned. He set her down on legs that felt like jelly, but he kept his arm around her waist as he reached in and turned her shower on. She shifted, feeling her wetness all over her inner thighs, trailing down to her knees. She’d made a mess… and she couldn’t bring herself to care. Because he didn’t care, and she knew he didn’t. There was something so freeing in that knowledge. “But what about the farmer’s market?”

“After,” Oliver replied, standing up, kissing her softly. He tasted like her, and she moaned, cupping his face to keep him still, kissing him again. “And you’re coming with me.”

“Okay,” Felicity replied simply, nodding. “Okay, good plan.”

“Good plan,” he agreed, his eyes sparkling… 

He gripped her hips, pulling her closer, pushing his thick erection against her stomach. 

Felicity smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist, arching her body to rub against the full length of him. 

Oliver groaned, sprawling a hand over her lower back to push her closer and she lifted herself up to his lips again, giving him a proper kiss. Steam started surrounding them and he finally lost the boxers, blindly yanking the shower curtain open, urging her in. 

They never stopped touching, even when Felicity had to readjust the temperature, even when he knocked his knee against the wall. She couldn’t keep her lips off his and she didn’t want to - he met her every single time…

And four minutes later Oliver had her pressed up against the wall in a practiced maneuver that had her winding her legs around his waist, letting him slide through her arousal - _arousal for him, because of him_ \- before he buried himself deep inside her, their combined cries ringing through the bathroom.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really just wanted to use these gifs, which is why I wrote this one now. And because I wanted to show that while their relationship will reach the lowest of lows, they also have high points (and because I think most of you were expecting more pain, so I thought I'd switch it up on you). (I kept the squirting description to a minimum, hence the lack of warning - I hope that didn’t offend anyone!)
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you guys liked it! Please let me know what you thought!
> 
> (gif sources: [X](http://babblingblondegenius.tumblr.com/post/130722326778/can-we-take-a-brief-moment-away-from-admiring-sas) and [X](http://queenformayor.tumblr.com/post/130722161163))


	5. 2:09 p.m. Oliver's Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mid-day quickie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: **This story is being told out of order** \- I'll have a masterlist ready for the next update since we're officially out of order with this installment.
> 
> Also, I had to adjust a few things to make room for a Christmas ficlet based on the red dress Felicity wears in 4x09. I'll be making a few edits to previous installments accordingly, but it's window dressing more than anything.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, [here’s my Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).

The desk groaned under their combined weight, a soft, subtle sound that echoed their quiet gasps for air.

It was low enough that anyone walking by wouldn’t hear it, but they would hear the way it subtly highlighted her not-very-discreet moans, his barely-muffled grunts, the squeak of her naked ass sliding against the wood, his thighs bumping against the long drawer under his desk, rattling the paperclips and pens and other useless shit that wound up in there.

“Oh god,” Felicity whined, arching her back. 

She fumbled with his tie, her fingers yanking the knot loose, her bright purple nails scratching against his neck, making him shudder as he thrust into her, filling her to the hilt, her slick heat so tight and perfect.

God, she felt so good, so damned good.

Oliver angled his hips down and thrust up, searching for that one spot deep inside her. She made a low choking sound, her hands faltering for just a second, her inner walls fluttering around him with pleasurable shocks that had him moaning. He did it again, and again, over and over, his thighs starting to burn with the slow, precise rhythm, knowing exactly what he was doing, how to do it, how fast, how long…

“Ooh,” Felicity whimpered, hiking her legs higher, hooking her ankles behind him as she wrapped his tie around one hand, gripping it tightly, the other slipping under the collar of his shirt. Her nails scraped across his back, leaving a path of fire in their wake before she covered the expanse of his upper back, urging him closer, touching him as if she couldn’t get enough, as if she needed more, and god, it was hot as hell, her need for him.

The fact that she denied it so steadfastly only made it hotter.

“We don’t…” she gasped, the words coming out in a breathless whisper. “We don’t…” He angled his hips to graze over her clit and the rest of the words were a guttural moan that made his gut tighten with desire. “Oliver, we don’t have time, we have to… have to go, and… oh god…”

“We do,” Oliver grunted, shaking his head, gripping the edge of the desk for more leverage. “We have time.” 

He lifted himself up, leaning on his elbow, ignoring the carved wood biting into his fingers and how the hard surface made his arm ache as it held the bulk over his weight. It was so easy when she was underneath him like she was, when she was taking every inch of him inside her, her mouth saying one thing, her body another.

He hovered over her, changing the pace of his hips, rocking against her with more force, making the desk groan even louder.

“Oliver,” Felicity breathed, and she wrapped his tie tighter around her hand, trying to pull him closer, neither of them caring that he’d have to change ties _again_.

But he didn’t budge, keeping himself away from, because he knew if he leaned over her like he wanted to, if he felt her nose brush against his, her harsh pants caressing his face, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

Oliver stared down at her through hooded eyes as he thrust into her.

She laid out sprawled across his desk, her gorgeous hair spread out over spreadsheets and pretrial motions, tangling with his stapler and the mess of pens he kept scattered everywhere. The sharp contrast between her flushed skin, the light pink of her blouse unbuttoned, her heaving chest, her creamy breasts hidden behind her simple black bra against the simple tools of his trade was stunning, so damned stunning, and Oliver couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He couldn’t look away, watching the blush creeping up her neck as her desire built, her skin reddening with a core-deep yearning and _pleasure_ , pleasure he was giving her.

He didn’t give a good goddamn how long it took. He didn’t care if people started coming back from the meeting, if anyone heard them, he just didn’t _care_. He wasn’t going anywhere until she came, until he felt her wetness drenching him, felt her inner walls clamping down on him, felt that fine tremble start in her legs, becoming more desperate and rapid as he built her up. He knew her feet would drop, her heels digging into his ass, urging him on as she spread herself for him, giving him everything…

And he wanted everything, he wanted it all.

There was nothing quite like these moments, when they put all the bullshit aside, when it was just about those few precious seconds, when their needs were on the same page, when it all made sense and they could just _let go_.

He craved these moments, he craved them like the oxygen his body needed, and ever since that fleeting moment they’d shared in Gotham, since she’d let him in in a moment of weakness, since he’d found himself wanting to be there for her in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time, wanting to be _more_ for her because she needed someone… 

It’d changed something, made something shift, put them in an entirely different place.

It wasn’t so much about just having her anymore, knowing he could have her, knowing her need for him was just as bad as his was for her, that he could brush past her, touch in her in a certain spot and leave her gasping and cursing his name… no, now he wanted to make her feel _more_ ; he wanted to see that look on her face when she came, when it was too much, when she let go, gasping his name with such fervor it left him breathless, clutching her so tightly he usually left bruises.

Something had changed when she’d turned to him, something had been different when he’d texted her that night to ask if she was okay, when she’d actually _responded_ , when they’d had a real conversation when she’d gone to Las Vegas to be with her mom, when she’d tried to shift away from the heavy topic by asking what he was wearing…

And when he’d called her, wanting to hear her, wanting to whisper everything he was imagining as she’d touched herself…

She’d needed a distraction, and they’d both known it, and he’d happily obliged.

“Oliver,” Felicity gasped loudly, too loudly, and they both realized it at the same time.

Felicity groaned in dismay, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth to keep herself quiet. 

Her lips were red today, a beautiful sensual red that’d made him harden the second he’d caught her reapplying it in her office after lunch.

They were still pristine, untouched, even as she dug her teeth into them, the white of her teeth a stark contrast against the sinful shade.

He wanted to muss her lipstick, kiss her until she was breathless, leave her mouth swollen and puffy, leave delicate burns from his beard all over her chin and down her jaw, down her neck… 

Oliver wanted to leave his mark, leave something behind to show that she was, but he stopped himself, like always. 

He was obsessed with her lips, and he was damn sure it was because he couldn’t touch them. 

Definitely not there, not at the office.

“Harder,” Felicity whispered frantically, her hips moving to meet his with a new urgency, her brow furrowing in concentration. “Harder…” 

Her voice caught, rising unexpectedly at the end - too loud, she was always too loud - and Oliver reached up, cupping the side of her face, pressing his thumb to her lips. Her eyes flew open, finding his as he slowed down, just enough to tease them both, before he slowly ran his thumb over her plump upper lip. Her mouth fell open in a needy gasp, opening wider to capture him but he pulled his thumb down over her bottom lip instead.

He loved her fucking lips so much, they drove him crazy. Everything about her drove him crazy, but when he couldn’t touch a certain part of her, couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t taste her… it drove him insane, with a need he couldn’t name.

He felt her eyes on him as he traced her mouth again, his thumb skating over the damp edge of her lip, over the perfect color she’d put on, not a smear in sight.

Oliver licked his lips, leaning closer, brushing his thumb across her upper lip again. 

Felicity instantly opened her mouth and sucked the digit between her lips. 

Oliver groaned at the sudden sensation, his hips losing any sense of rhythm when she swirled her tongue around him.

“God,” he choked.

Felicity looked up at him, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked and Oliver whispered, “Fuck, Felicity,” in a cracked voice before he pulled his thumb free, pressing the wet digit over her lips again as he hiked himself closer to her. He redoubled his efforts, putting more weight behind each thrust, making the desk groan loudly with each movement, followed quickly by the sound of his pelvis slapping against hers, of her ass squeaking across the surface.

“Yes,” Felicity hissed, the whine barely muffled by his thumb and he pressed it closer, urging her to keep quiet as he clenched his jaw, moving faster.

Her cries were still loud, but just like always they urged him on, made him moan under his breath, as quietly as he could as he felt her tightening around him, felt every inch of her growing taut with her impending release.

Oliver’s head dropped as his own pleasure swamped him but he kept his eyes open, kept them fixed on her mouth where she lay before him, her lips parted under his thumb, her eyes clenched shut, her face twisting with concentration, her skin growing pinker, her cheek warming under his hand.

He felt the tremble in her legs, starting in her core. Felicity wrenched her hand out of his shirt and pushed it down under his arm, wrapping around him, anchoring herself to him as she held onto his tie, her hips becoming more frantic, her back arching to get closer, the precious tremble growing as her orgasm built.

Higher and higher…

Closer…

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh… god, Oliver, Oliver…!” Felicity babbled mindlessly, and he barely had the state of mind to press his hand over her mouth completely as she flew apart in his arms, her body undulating under his, rocking against the desk as she thrust up erratically, the orgasm shattering inside her.

Her inner walls clamped down on him, sucking him in deeper, and Oliver dug his fingers into her neck, holding her tightly as he moaned her name, realizing at the last second that it was too loud but he just didn’t care as he thrust into her, the desk rattling beneath them as the white hot burn in his spine seared across his every nerve.

Oliver came with a breathless, “Yes, oh god, yes…!” and a final deep thrust, shoving himself as deeply as he could go, spurting inside her, filling the condom more and more with each thrust. He pushed himself up onto his toes, sliding over the plastic mat on the slightly as he rubbed against her with mindless abandon, guided completely by her beautiful cries until he had nothing left, collapsing on top of her.

She didn’t give him long to recover. 

One second she was with him, blissed sounds escaping her throat as she cupped the back of his neck, running her fingers through the soft hair there… and then the next she was releasing his tie, slowly unwinding it from her grasp before she pushed on his shoulder, urging him up.

Oliver groaned, and he barely had the strength to lift himself up off her before she was sitting up. 

He slid out of her, and he instantly regretted the groan he made because he missed the little whimper she always gave him when he pulled out of her.

“I think we missed that meeting,” Felicity said, her voice husky.

Oliver stood up, stumbling a little, his legs completely useless. She grabbed his arm, keeping him steady, her other reaching out to smooth down his tie with a tiny smile. 

There wasn’t a trace of regret on her face. 

“Another one bites the dust,” she whispered.

Oliver chuckled breathily, glancing down at it - it was a wrangled mess - before meeting her eyes. “At this rate I won’t have any ties left, Smoak. What am I going to tie you up with then?”

Felicity’s eyes darkened at the reminder of the last time it’d been his turn to tie her to the bed.

Oliver smirked and she rolled her eyes.

“Move,” was all she said, pushing on his chest and he did, letting her slide off the desk, leaving a wet smear of her juices all over his desk. She stepped around him gracefully, leaning over to grab her skirt and underwear where she’d left them folded on his desk chair, before picking up her suit jacket.

Without a backwards glance, she walked to his bathroom, wearing nothing but her strappy green heels and her unbuttoned blouse, the thin material flowing out behind her sensually.

The sunlight streaming in through his window caught the wetness of her desires spread over one ass cheek and between her thighs, and damn it if that wasn’t the sexiest damn thing he’d ever seen. 

Oliver watched her until she closed the door behind her and then he sighed, letting it out in a burst of air, his eyes landing on the mess she’d left, on the mess they’d both made.

Some of her juices had smeared on a recent order from a judge about his expectations on trial presentation.

He chuckled, picking it up.

Not exactly work appropriate.

Making a mental note to print another copy, Oliver peeled the heavy condom off himself and tied it shut briskly, letting it plop wetly in the center of the ruined document before he crinkled it around the condom, tossing them both into the trashcan. Oliver pulled his pants up, tucking himself gingerly back into his boxers, vaguely listening to the sound of Felicity cleaning up in the bathroom as he zipped his pants up.

Oliver yanked his tie off and used it to wipe away any signs of sex they’d had before tossing that into the trash as well, opening the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a brand new one.

Just as he was pulling it over his head, a knock sounded at his door.

Oliver froze, his heart stuttering to a stop, his eyes flying to the closed office door before switching over to the still-closed door to his en suite bathroom.

Everyone was upstairs - the meeting was mandatory, something from HR and then information about the upcoming Christmas party - meaning their floor was empty. Rather, it _should_ be empty.

_Shit_. 

Had someone heard them? That would be bad, very bad. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that he was doing that, but Felicity’s presence would be missed from the meeting, especially by the staff attending on behalf of the IT department. Felicity didn’t miss meetings, she _never_ missed meetings - one person even thinking about the possibility of connecting them together was bad, but if they’d come to check on her, or on him? And they’d heard them, heard _him_ moaning her name?

Even worse.

It’d be bad for him, but for her?

Oliver didn’t move, hoping they’d go away, but they knocked again, making his stomach drop before he heard a soft, “Mr. Queen? It’s Naomi. I was told you were in your office.”

“Shit,” he whispered, looking at the bathroom again. It was still closed, and he could vaguely hear the sound of water running.

Naomi, Naomi… 

Who was Naomi?

Running his hands down his shirt, Oliver quickly scanned his desk and office, making sure there was no sign of anything but business-related things happening in there before he glanced down at himself. He was rumpled, nothing his suit jacket wouldn’t be able to hide, but his pants…

“Fuck,” he breathed, scowling at the tiny wet spot seeping through his boxers and through his slacks. It wasn’t noticeable if you weren’t looking for it, but it was _enough_ if you happened to look down. Oliver growled under his breath, wiping at it, hoping to hell it would dry without leaving a stain.

“Mr. Queen?”

“Coming,” he replied, raising his voice to be heard as he yanked his tie back off, not having enough time to properly secure it into place.

Just as he moved to open the door, Felicity opened the bathroom door.

It took everything in his power to not look at her as he opened his office door, maneuvering it just right so it hid the wet spot but it didn’t look like he was hiding anything. At least he hoped that’s what it looked like.

The instant he saw the woman on the other side, it clicked. He knew her, he definitely knew her, because one, she was new, two, gorgeous as hell, and three, paid quite a bit of attention to him, something he’d noticed the first time she caught his eye.

He didn’t take a second to examine why exactly that thought wasn’t as exciting as it used to be, or that now it felt a little… _burdensome_. No, what he did take a second to do was breathe a quick sigh of relief that it was her and the bright-eyed nubile-laced expectation she was shooting him told him that she hadn’t heard anything.

“Naomi, hi,” Oliver said, putting on his best Oliver Queen smile, cocking his head. “What can I do for you? Aren’t you supposed to be in the meeting upstairs?”

The young woman returned his smile, a light blush tinging her cheeks as she bit her bottom lip. “I was, um… it ended, a few minutes ago.” 

“Oh.”

How the hell long had they been in his office? He hadn’t bothered checking the time.

“I was just wondering if we were still on for tonight?”

Oliver paused, almost frowning before he caught himself. 

He was suddenly painfully aware that Felicity was in his office, and he had no idea where she was, not that it mattered - she’d hear this either way, hear what they were both saying, and for some reason that had a stone settling in the pit of his stomach.

He barely stopped himself from whispering, “For fuck’s sake,” out loud at the ridiculous thought.

They were both adults, two people who enjoyed screwing each other, that was it. She didn’t have any bearing whatsoever on anything he might have been planning on doing with Naomi, and she shouldn’t. The one time they’d shared something more than bodily fluids had been a direct consequence of her almost losing her mother - that hardly qualified for the weird _guilt_ building in his chest.

Oliver shoved it down as Naomi awkwardly filled the silence left in the wake of his lack of response.

“You said you’d help with my, um… presentation skills,” she continued. “After that last meeting, when Ms. Rochev said I wasn’t…”

“Right,” Oliver said, nodding his head, remembering quite vividly the way Isabel had reduced the woman before him to tears with just a few sharp remarks that had made even him cringe. She called it preparedness for the demands that came with trial presentation; he called it being a cold-hearted bitch. “Right, yes, of course, of course we’re on for tonight.”

“Great,” Naomi said with a huge grin, nodding. She moved to step forward but Oliver shifted the door, indicating that that wasn’t a good idea and she paused. “Sorry, I didn’t… I was going to…” 

She blushed even more, and it struck him again that not too long he would’ve found that incredibly endearing - _challenging_ \- but now it was just… not. 

Naomi held out her hand. “Thank you so much, Mr. Queen.”

“You can call me Oliver,” he replied, the smoothness coming out like second nature as he reached out, shaking her hand gently. He suddenly realized the fingers touching Naomi’s had been buried deep inside Felicity before he’d gotten his pants undone just a few minutes ago and he pulled his hand back. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay… Oliver,” Naomi replied with a smile. “Tonight.”

“Tonight,” Oliver repeated, returning her grin as she backed up a few paces before turning away.

It wasn’t too long ago that Oliver would’ve taken a second to appreciate the view - Naomi was _gorgeous_ , someone he definitely would’ve considered chasing, especially the first time he got a glimpse of that tight little waist that flared out into amazingly lush hips - but he didn’t.

Just as Naomi glanced back over her shoulder, Oliver shut the door.

“Hot date?” Felicity asked the second it was closed. 

Her voice was neutral, calm even, barely anything going on in it.

It was the only reason his heart skipped a beat, his stomach clenching slightly at her innocent question.

Oliver slowly turned away from the door to face her where she stood fiddling with one of her bracelets nonchalantly, looking like she was readjusting its length. As she got it where she wanted it, she looked back at him, offering him a placid smile.

“Be nice to her,” she said, turning back to grab the pile of exhibits she’d brought in to talk about before they’d gotten… _distracted_. She turned back to face him. “I like her.”

Oliver furrowed his brow, the words, _‘Be nice to her,’_ floating incredulously through his head before he huffed out a chuckle.

Seriously?

As she moved to leave the office, Oliver stepped back until he ran into the door, effectively blocking her exit.

Felicity stopped, narrowing her eyes in a quick flash of agitation that was gone a second later.

“Move, Oliver.”

He stared at her with a slow-growing smile. “Are you jealous, Smoak?” 

“Excuse me?” she asked, sounding a little affronted before she laughed. The sound that came out didn’t match the forced lightness on her face. “I am not jealous. Now move.”

She moved for the handle but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her. Felicity inhaled sharply, trying to yank it out of his grasp but he held on, tugging her in closer, so close her breasts grazed his chest and she had to look up at him, something that only stoked the very familiar anger he saw growing in her eyes.

“Oliver…”

“You’re a really bad liar,” he whispered, unable to keep the grin off his lips as he looked down at her. He leaned in closer, so close he could see the tiny gold ring that lined her irises, as he said, “You, Felicity Smoak, are being _nice_. Do you know how often you’re nice to me?”

She gritted her teeth, not answering.

“Never,” he supplied.

“ _Move_ ,” she said, her voice low, her eyes flashing, but he ignored her. 

“Which means,” Oliver continued, moving his hand up her arm, his grip tightening as she pulled against him. “That you don’t like what you just heard.”

“I don’t _like_ ,” Felicity snapped, “That you are pulling your Oliver Queen crap on yet another unsuspecting woman.”

“You weren’t unsuspecting,” he replied instantly, his eyes dropping to her lips before meeting her eyes again. 

She glared at him. “That’s because I saw through your bullshit the second I met you.”

“Which means you should be able to tell that I have zero intention of sleeping with her.”

A tiny flicker in her eyes was the only thing that gave her away, but it was enough.

He didn’t want to sleep with Naomi. In fact, the second he’d offered to help her out, he’d planned on meeting with her in the conference room, not even his office. The technology wasn’t his strong suit, but the showmanship part he was great at, and Naomi needed all the help she could get.

It was obvious Felicity didn’t believe him, and he didn’t like it. 

He didn’t like that he didn’t like it, he didn’t like that he seemed to give a good goddamn at all what she thought about how he spent his free time, because that wasn’t what this charade was, it never had been… and yet he knew he didn’t like it. He’d given her more than enough reason to not believe him, to assume that that was his angle with the new hire, but still, it hurt.

But just a little.

Definitely not enough to take away the pleasure of pushing her little buttons.

“You think I’m going to take her home?” he asked, his voice soft, growing rough as he continued, painting the picture. “Take her to where I had you bent over the counter this morning? You think that’s what’s going to happen?”

Felicity merely pinched her lips, staring at him.

She was no longer trying to pull away, but she was holding onto her stack of paper so tight her fingers were turning white.

“Or maybe it’ll be on the couch,” he continued. “Do you remember when you were on my couch, Smoak, right on the edge as I ate you out, making you come so hard you were shouting my name?”

Her nostrils flared slightly, her pupils dilating, her breathing picking up just enough that it pushed her breasts against him. 

Oliver leaned in, his nose brushing against hers, no longer having a damn issue with her lips because now it was all about her, about pushing _her_ , and he was going to do _anything_ , even torture his goddamn self.

“Or maybe it’ll be on the balcony…” 

He remembered very vividly the last time they’d been on her balcony. Oliver had been perched on one of her chairs with her straddling him backwards in the middle of the night, the only light coming from the moon, making her skin _glow_. It’d emphasized the sight of her beautiful ass as she’d bounced on him and the long line of her back as she’d arched backwards to take him in deeper, her nails digging into his knees for leverage as she’d gasped his name.

The way she flushed told him she remembered it as well.

“Or maybe up against the window,” he whispered. “Or in the closet, or the shower…”

Felicity swallowed, looking like she was biting the tip of her tongue.

“Who knows what’ll happen,” he said, his breath skating over her lips before he pulled back. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.”

She took in a stilted breath.

Oliver gave her a genial smile and let go of her abruptly, stepping away from the door.

“Have a good rest of the day, Ms. Smoak,” he said, moving to step around her.

Her hand shot out before he could take a single step though, and she shoved him back against the door.

Oliver stumbled into it, but then nothing happened. She just stared at him, her face unreadable.

He raised his eyebrows. “Is there a problem?”

Felicity barely gave him a second to react before she was on him.

Oliver wasn’t sure exactly what he’d been expecting, if he’d been aiming to piss her off more, to needle her until she snapped, to make her lose it or for her to go to Naomi and warn her off him, he really hadn’t had a plan past wanting to see more of that dangerous fire in her eyes.

He definitely hadn’t expected this.

Felicity dropped the sheaf of paper, sending the exhibits scattering all over the floor as one hand cupped the side of his face while the other grabbed the open collar of his shirt and pulled him down to her just as she pushed herself up.

Her lips crashed against his.

Oliver groaned, instantly wrapping his arms around her, hauling her closer, opening his mouth to her and she took complete advantage, kissing him with a ferocity that made him shiver. 

He moaned, the kiss growing harder, more savage, harsh and unyielding, delicious and perfect, intoxicating… 

Felicity clawed at him, moaning from somewhere deep inside as she kissed him with everything she had and he gave it back in equal measure, one hand sliding down to cup her ass as the other slid up to grip her neck, angling her head so he could go deeper.

They were _kissing_. At work. They were kissing in the office, the one place where it was off-limits, where it was the most obvious sign that _something_ had happened, but they didn’t care. He’d _never_ cared, it was her thing, but right then, she didn’t care either, and it sent him soaring.

Oliver moaned again, kissing her harder, demanding even more, making her whimper as she succumbed just as much as she demanded his own submission as well.

He wanted to lift her up and slam her back down on his desk again.

He wanted to spin them around and shove her up against the door, feel her legs wrapping around him as they had been a few minutes ago, feel her heels dig into his ass as she pulled him in closer.

He wanted to take her again, have her again, feel her around him, swallowing the gorgeous sounds she made as he thrust into her.

He wanted it all, right then and there…

But he couldn’t have it.

Felicity pulled away from him with a wild gasp, staring up at him, a thin layer of foggy steam on her glasses slowly dissipating.

He was powerless to do anything but return her gaze, still holding her, breathing just as heavily.

A heavy moment passed, neither of them moving, and he wondered if she was feeling the same sense of wonder he was.

It was like something just… _clicked_.

Her lips were swollen, her lipstick smudged, but just a little - that was some amazing lipstick - and she definitely had small burns littered across the left side of her mouth where his chin had rubbed, something he was damn pleased to see.

Felicity licked her lips, and he groaned, letting out a shaky breath, holding her closer… and then she released him, prompting him to do the same. 

He slowly let her go, setting her back on her feet.

She took a step back, her eyes never leaving his.

He couldn’t read what he saw there.

He had no idea what she was thinking.

She’d just kissed him.

At work.

In the office.

Oliver blinked.

Felicity suddenly looked down at the papers scattered all over his floor before glancing back at him.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said, not sounding the least bit sorry, before she stepped around him, her little hand pushing on his shoulder just enough to let her open the door and slip out, closing it gently behind her.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you guys liked it! 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought, reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	6. 10:18 p.m. Queen Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen & Queen holiday party.
> 
> Prompt - Anonymous: For your Heartbeats fic: mirror sex? yay, maybe, nay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: This story is being told out of order! You can now view the **[Four Walls Timeline](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/fourwalls)** , listing the fics as they happen chronologically for Oliver and Felicity.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, here’s my [Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).
> 
> I apologize for the delay in getting this out, ya’ll! I had a different concept that was not working and I decided to look at a different gif and then voila! The story flowed right out of me, I wrote the entire thing yesterday. I hope you like it, and thank you for your patience! Also, this is the fic featuring the red dress Felicity wore in 4x09 "Dark Waters," and my apologies to the anon who sent me this prompt (nine months ago - yikes!) because it's not for my Heartbeats collection.

His eyes found her the second she stepped into the large room, almost like he’d been waiting for her.

Felicity’s breath caught, her heart stuttering to a quick stop before it took off on her, sending a flood of anticipation through her system so intense it made her limbs feel weak. She froze, licking her lips, the quick second where their eyes found each other feeling like it lasted much, much longer.

Her fingers twitched and she tightened her grip on her clutch, not feeling the beaded material currently glued to her hand, but something else.

_“See you tonight.”_

She hadn’t even decided she was going to the party until earlier that day, and it’d been pure impulse that had her leaning into in her office, clenching him tighter in her hand as she’d whispered into his ear…

_“See you tonight.”_

She didn’t attend these things, she’d _never_ attended these things. The party was under the guise of thanking the Queen  & Queen employees, but it was also a schmooze fest for lawyers and their clients, turning what should have been a simple holiday office party into a huge affair. 

The Queen Manor was already teeming with people, equal parts Q and Q lawyers and employees with their spouses and clients slowly filing into the mansion… and mansion it was. The anteroom alone was bigger than her first apartment, and it was definitely on its way to being bigger than her current one, and that didn’t even include the large vaulted ceilings in every single room that seemed to go on for several stories, including this one.

She felt very Alice.

The entire house was richly decorated with garland and large red bows, beautiful ornaments and lights strewn about, looking incredibly festive; it was the kind of festive people saw in magazines or super expensive department stores, the kind of festive you paid someone else to do, not something you saw in actual homes. It made her small menorah and blue and white lights hanging off her window look positively pathetic, but at least her place was _homey_ , whereas everything here felt… _cold_.

Which fit - it fit him, it fit the Queens.

And yet, as they stared at each other from across the room, she felt anything but cold.

She couldn’t believe she’d come tonight.

He was all the way across the room, standing in a loose circle of people. She didn’t have to be near him to see his eyes narrow, his brow growing heavy as he took her in. The room was crowded, already filling to the brim, waiters moving easily through the flow of people, some carrying trays of drinks, others carrying wine bottles, steady streams of white jackets interspersing the rich-colored dresses and black suit jackets, the steady hum of chatter broken only by the soft music in the background… and despite that, despite the fact that easily a fifty people separated them, she knew the second he caught sight of what she was wearing.

He stood up taller, his jaw dropping, and it was enough to make every nerve in her body jump to life.

 _Worth it_.

The thought flitted through her head and just as quickly she shoved it back out.

 _Damn it_.

Felicity tore her eyes away from him, scanning the crowd blindly, forcing herself to swallow when her mouth suddenly went dry. 

She should be looking for Barry or Caitlin or even Cisco, someone _she_ knew because she was sure they were here somewhere… she should be moving to get a glass of wine, admiring the mansion, greeting the lawyers she saw on a weekly basis when their computers went down - computers riddled with viruses because they couldn’t _not_ click on the link in that mysterious email and having another conversation about why they’d _shouldn’t_ click on that email - meeting spouses, talking to the clients she helped with during their trials…

But she didn’t do any of that.

She didn’t see anything or hear anything or _feel_ anything but his eyes on her, and the very idea of what he might be thinking had her core tightening with need.

_“See you tonight.”_

They’d been her parting words, whispered in his ear when she’d leaned into him where he’d been perched on the edge of her desk, his pants undone, his hands gripping the wood so tightly they’d been bloodless as her hands slid up his thick shaft, her thumbs slipping over the head of his cock, making him shudder… she’d gripped him tightly, squeezing him, letting her nails drag along the sensitive slit at the tip, a tiny bead of cum coating her fingers…

He’d widened his legs, wrapping them around her loosely where she stood in front of him, pulling her in closer, his forehead falling on her shoulder as he’d gasped, _“God…”_

… and then she’d glanced at the clock, seeing she only had fifteen minutes to get ready for her meeting.

_“Oliver.”_

_His eyes were screwed shut, all his concentration on holding on for dear life as she played with him. He’d been in there for twenty minutes already, having slipped in with a few files, talking about the Glickei case as he shut the door, locking it behind him - the work talk had lasted about three minutes and the rest of it had been spent with her building his arousal up until he was rock hard, until he was quivering with need, tiny trembles shaking her desk, a heated flush coloring his cheeks._

_Felicity pressed her face against his temple, feeling his heavy exhale._

_“Fuck,” he whispered, letting go of her desk to grab her, his hand sliding around her, grabbing her ass through her tight purple skirt - it was new, and she knew it hugged her curves just right, if the look he’d given her when she’d come into work that morning was any indication. He gripped her tightly and Felicity bit her lip, letting out a quiet whine as he tugged her closer, turning his face into her neck, always keeping her grip on his cock in sight. She twisted her hands, speeding up, and his next breath was harsh and uneven, his chest expanding rapidly as his hips jerked up, thrusting into her hands with a harried, “Oh fuck…”_

_A little thrill shot through her chest and she moved back a little to see him, as much as she could where he stared at her hands like they were the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment. He was absolutely gorgeous, unkempt and on the edge as he was, his shoulders shaking with the pleasure she was giving him; his body strained towards her, fighting himself in equal measure to keep from doing what she knew he wanted to do._

_She was surprised he’d lasted so long - usually after five minutes of teasing she got an impatient growl, his hand covering hers or fingers sliding into her hair, pulling her face down to take him into her mouth, or - like last time - he just grabbed her and yanked her legs apart, barely taking a second to slip a condom on before he thrust into her to the hilt. She loved when he lost control, getting off on it as much as he did, but this…_

_This was better._

_He’d never done this before, he’d never let go like this, put himself in her hands so completely…_

_It made her feel bad for about two seconds when she thought about what she was going to do, but then she remembered all the times he’d left her right on the edge after he’d gotten his fill, of all the times he’d come and then disappeared, or snuck up behind her and rubbed her clit through her panties until she was a quivering mess herself before leaving, not giving her the satisfaction she so desperately needed._

_She’d been seriously considering tying him up and making him feel what she felt when he did that… but that was for later, because right now he was in her office, at her mercy, leaning into her, his hips starting to move urgently as his pleasure built._

_“Oliver…”_

_“Hmm?” he managed, the sound coming out in a breathy whine._

_Felicity pulled back a little, and he almost fell forward before catching himself, his throat moving as he swallowed, his fingers gripping her ass so tight it hurt. They both watched her hands and when her fingers crowned the head of his cock, his mouth fell open in a needy pant that had a rush of arousal flooding her sex._

_Felicity pumped him a few more times, twisting her wrists gently, tugging at him in a way that made him whimper deep in his chest. She leaned over him, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek, to his temple, dragging her lips along his heated skin until she reached his ear. He shuddered again, letting go of the desk to wrap both his arms around her as he dug his face into her neck again, his wet breaths making her shiver as he thrust up into her hands._

_“Oliver…”_

_He managed a breathy gasp in response, but that was it._

_His cock lengthened, growing harder, his body tightening as his thrusts became a little more rushed, the desk groaning underneath him, his hands gripping her tightly as he moaned under his breath, “Don’t stop… please.”_

_Felicity wrapped her lips around his earlobe and stopped, sliding one hand down to squeeze the base of his cock._

_“Oh shit,” he croaked, stiffening against her._

_“Oliver…” she whispered into his ear. “Don’t come.”_

_Oliver froze, his lungs stalling, every inch of him stopping and she knew he was wondering if he’d heard her correctly._

_“What?” he asked raggedly, his desperate tiny gasps for air dancing over her cheek._

_Felicity smiled, biting her lip to keep from outright grinning before she started squeezing him with her other fist, right around the head of his cock, as tight as she dared._

_He groaned, loudly, digging his fingers into her ass and spine where he held her._

_“I said… Don’t. Come.”_

_“Oh…” he choked, shuddering against her. “Please…”_

_“If you come before tonight, Oliver,” she said, dragging her fist up his shaft, making him cry out, barely managing to stifle it as he pressed his face into her shoulder. “Then your face will be the only thing I ride for the next month.”_

_Oliver moaned, his cock swelling at the imagery… and then she let him go._

The words had come out before she even realized what she was saying, because she’d originally had zero intention of going that night…

_“See you tonight,” she whispered, licking his earlobe before stepping back, forcing him to let her go._

The breathless, _“Wait,”_ he’d gasped when she’d grabbed her suit jacket and notes for the meeting had sent a rush of arousal soaking her already-wet panties and she’d turned back to him when she’d reached the door, finding him holding onto her desk with everything in him, his heavy-lidded eyes on her as he looked over his shoulder, like he thought she was really going to come back… 

She’d given him a little wink that had him furrowing his brow in confusion before she’d left.

She wondered if he’d touched himself, if he’d wrapped his hand around himself right there, still smelling her, feeling her…

God, she hoped he hadn’t just as much as she hoped he had because the thought of his face between her legs in retribution… for _hours_.

She was holding him to that.

A tiny thrill slid through her at the thought.

By the time she was done with her meeting, most everyone in the office had already left, leaving early to get ready for the party. Where during the last few years she’d taken advantage of the quiet to get caught up on less than urgent upgrades and projects around the firm, she’d left as well… but not just to get ready.

The second she’d gotten home, she’d headed right for the shower, only making it to the bathroom counter before she couldn’t wait any longer. She’d unzipped her skirt, letting it slide to the floor before she’d pressed her hand into her panties, rubbing herself to completion, his breathy, _“Wait,”_ ringing in her ears, the frantic desire on his face as she’d held him in her hands, the thought of his tongue in place of her fingers, all of it echoing the sharp cry that left her throat when she came all over her fingers.

She didn’t let herself think about the fact that she called out his name when she came.

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur. She remembered looking at herself in the mirror, at her flushed cheeks, her open mouth as she gasped for air, wondering if she was really going to go… and then she’d moved to turn on the shower, to get ready for the party. A simple black cocktail dress hung in her closet for occasions just like this one, and she’d been reaching for it when a flash of red had caught her eye.

_“See you tonight.”_

“Wine,” she whispered to herself, her eyes finally focusing on the party, pushing _him_ to the back of her mind. “Need so much wine.”

Felicity deliberately kept her eyes away from him as she made her way through the party. She smiled at the people who offered her smiles, returning greetings here and there, barely aware of what she was doing as her eyes found the bar on the other side of the room… the bar that she had to walk right by him to get to.

She purposefully took the long route, making a wide berth around him.

She still felt the heat of his gaze following her all the way, burning into the back of his neck as she pushed her way through the crowd.

If she was a little breathless when she reached the bar, the bartender didn’t comment as he set down a pair of martini glasses for a couple. He just gave her a kind smile.

“What can I get you?” he - Tom, according to his nametag - asked.

“Wine,” Felicity replied, setting her clutch down. Were her hands shaking? She laced her fingers together. “All the wine, please.”

The back of her neck _burned_.

“Red or white tonight, miss?”

“Red. Please,” Felicity said. Tom nodded and she gave him a quiet, “Thank you,” before she looked around, in the opposite direction of where Oliver was standing.

Now that she was _in_ the room, she saw there was a space cleared for a dance floor. A few people were already dancing, moving gracefully in the designated space, and through them… there was actually a string quartet playing in the corner. Felicity raised her eyebrows. The Queens didn’t go halfway, did they? Her eyes continued around the room, noting the various Christmas trees throughout the room, all decorated with different themes, the beautiful lights hanging from various spots, everything working together to create a delicate sense of intimacy without feeling like the room was closing in on anyone…

It was beautiful, very beautiful.

Felicity casually looked over her other shoulder, having every intention of looking right past him…

But Oliver’s eyes were on her and they drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Her breath caught again, a shiver dancing down her spine as a swath of heat cut right through her, slicing towards her center, highlighting an over-awareness she felt all the way to the tips of her toes.

His eyes were dark, his lids hooded as he met her gaze, slowly bringing his glass up for a drink. 

Felicity’s lips parted as she watched his mouth wrap around the rim of the tumbler before he tipped it back, taking an easy drink of the amber liquid… and then he licked his lips, making a show of using his tongue to get every last drop, and that alone had her thighs clenching together as she sucked in a quick breath.

 _Oh god_.

She remembered with vivid alacrity what that tongue could do, what it felt like when he was between her thighs, how it felt when he wrapped his mouth around her, _sucking_ until she forgot how to do anything but _feel_ the pleasure he gave her, until she was trembling with the need to come, her thighs quaking around his head, their laced hands flat across her stomach to keep her still, his fingers digging in with a strength that made her insides melt as his other hand slid between her legs, teasing her entrance.

She knew he was remembering the very same thing, just as much as he knew that’s exactly what she was thinking. 

_Bastard_.

She didn’t have to ask to know that he’d definitely made himself come that afternoon.

Felicity met his eyes again - there was a promise there, for _her_ , and a hot flush spread up her chest and across her neck.

She told herself to look away, to look at anything but him, but then his eyes slowly dropped, taking in what she was wearing.

Her dress hugged her curves, accenting her waist and backside without revealing too much skin, the design doing that for her - the zippered slit was her favorite part; it was incredibly sexy and it made her _feel_ sexy, knowing that with one tug the entire thing could come undone. 

Felicity didn’t move, barely breathing, letting him take his fill as he touched her body with his gaze.

His eyes paused on the zipper across her lower back, his eyebrow rising slightly, and she remembered the look on his face when he’d seen the front of her dress.

She took a tremulous breath.

Would he be unzipping it tonight?

“Here you go, ma’am,” Tom said, sliding her glass of wine to her on a white napkin, jerking her back to reality.

“Oh,” she said, whipping back to face him. She grinned - too brightly, she knew it was too brightly, too much - as her fingers found the thin glass stem. “Thank you.” It was more than half-filled and she said, “You are a king of kings for being so generous with that wine bottle, Tom.”

“Of course,” he replied with an amused grin, turning to someone else.

Felicity took a sip, savoring the wine - it was good, _very good_ \- and she grabbed her clutch as she turned around to head towards the dance floor - surely Barry or Caitlin were there somewhere, they’d mentioned they were coming tonight and god, she hoped they were there because if she had to ward him off on her own the _entire night_ , she wouldn’t last - when someone stepped up right behind her.

Like, _right_ behind her.

“Another one, please, Tom,” Oliver said, reaching over her shoulder to set his now-empty glass down in front of her, his other hand falling on her hip, making her heart falter as she stopped. His fingers dug in slightly, his hand sliding down and around, ghosting over the front of her thigh in a luridly bold move that made her knees feel weak.

Felicity barely heard Tom’s, “Sure thing, Mr. Queen,” as he grabbed the tumbler, barely aware of anything except _Oliver_.

For a split second, his entire front was plastered against her back, the heavy ridge in his pants pressing into her ass, sliding in the gentle crease as his chest pushed into her back, effectively crowding her against the bar - and it was just that, a split second, but in that flash of time, her body came to _life_ , heat encompassing her everywhere he touched as another shiver falling down her spine, a breathy gasp slipping past her lips, her nails digging into her clutch…

And then he slid around her, as if all that had been an _accident_.

“Excuse me,” Oliver murmured, his lips right by her ear before he was around her, leaning against the bar.

It took her a moment to let go of her wine glass, and then another to set it down before she dropped it - because she _would_ and wouldn’t _that_ be fun - before she took a steadying breath.

God, he’d barely _touched_ her and she was already a mess - it was exhilarating as much as it was aggravating. 

Oliver readjusted his jacket, his eyes on Tom, watching him fill a fresh glass with scotch. 

He didn’t look at her as he said, “We need to talk about our meeting earlier, Ms. Smoak.”

Felicity gave herself a second, making a show smoothing out her napkin, making sure the wine glass was right in the center of it where it sat on the bar.

“I really don’t think this is the place to talk about that,” she replied, keeping her voice low… and then she glanced at him, smiling, feeling a surge of confidence when she saw the stiff line of his shoulders. “I’m sure it can wait for tomorrow, Mr. Queen.”

He narrowed his eyes at the bar, his jaw clenching, his discord evident. 

It was obvious she wasn’t the only one struggling tonight.

_Good._

The thought was a heady one, and she wondered what exactly he had in mind for this… _talk_. It sent another thrill through her.

“It really can’t,” Oliver said, nodding his thanks to Tom when he slid his glass over.

Felicity hummed, suddenly feeling much more steady as she took a sip of her wine. “Did you do what I asked… Mr. Queen?”

He hummed noncommittally, taking a drink, his eyes on the scotch as he dodged her question. “Did you follow your own…” And then he looked at her, meeting her eyes shamelessly, his voice so soft she barely heard him as he said, “ _Requirement_ , Ms. Smoak?”

Felicity just bit the inside of her lip, and that was answer enough. 

She felt the heat in his gaze all the way down to her bones, to her very foundations, like he was _touching_ her already, _feeling_ her.. _watching_ her… like he’d done many times before.

His eyes darkened with carnal knowledge.

“It didn’t apply to me,” she finally answered.

“When?” he asked, his voice rough, his eyes never leaving hers, and she could read every little thing he was imagining right then - he was wondering if she’d touched herself at the office, or in her car, or if she’d waited until she’d gotten home… how she’d done it, if she’d pressed her fingers deep inside herself, or if she’d used one of her vibrators or if she’d just rubbed herself until she was weeping with pleasure… if she’d thought about him while doing it…

If she hadn’t already been wet, the look he was giving her would have gotten her there.

Felicity didn’t respond. She just stared at him, watching his shoulders tighten, his chest moving with quick breath breaths… and then she smiled, turning her entire body to face him. His eyes instantly dropped down, down to the zippered slit over her thigh, the slit that exposed a healthy amount of thigh. She felt something intensely powerful fill her when his lips pinched together, looking like he was biting his tongue to keep himself from speaking.

Or moving.

Felicity picked up her wine and reached out, patting his check lightly - _mockingly_ \- as she said, “I have a little more self-control than that, Mr. Queen.”

His look morphed into a glower, one that made her smile widen.

“Have a nice night,” she said, turning away from him.

His hand shot out before she could take a step, gripping her elbow so tightly it hurt.

“Meet me upstairs,” he said under his breath. “Now.”

“No,” she instantly replied, tugging on her arm. “Oliver…”

“If I have to watch you walking around in that goddamn dress for one more minute, Smoak,” he whispered, his fingers tightening. “I’m going to grab you right here and now.” She stared at him, both of them knowing he wouldn’t… but he didn’t relent. “I’m going to slide that zipper up so everyone can see that hickey I gave you, right on your hip…” Heat pooled in the pit of her stomach as his voice lowered. “The one I gave you when my fingers were buried deep inside you, my mouth on your clit, making you come so hard you nearly yanked my goddamn hair out… so I bit you.” She inhaled sharply, her sex throbbing as he continued, “I’ll find out right now if you’re wearing panties, find out if you’re as wet as we both know you are.”

“Oliver…”

There wasn’t anyone loitering around the bar, and there was enough distance between them that it didn’t look like _anything_ … 

They were just talking, about work, about a project… not about him slipping his fingers into her panties, about him finding out just how wet she was.

And she was wet, so wet… _for him_.

She was too far gone to realize that Tom was right there, that he could probably hear what Oliver was saying, see how he was holding her, see her response…

Felicity just didn’t _care_. She’d been on edge since he’d seen her that morning, since he’d come into her office, since he’d sat on the edge of her desk, since he’d rolled her chair between his legs, his hands on her shoulders, his fingers caressing her neck as she’d unzipped his pants, both of them gasping when she’d seen how hard he was…

 _For her_.

A small whimper escaped her before she could stop it and Oliver smirked.

“Would you stop me, Smoak?” he continued and her hand tightened around her wine glass. “Would you stop me if I touched your clit right now, if I fucked you with my fingers where anyone can see…”

Breathing… breathing was becoming a problem as her body responded to his words, blood rushing through her ears, drowning out everything but him. She was painfully aware of his hand on her, his skin against hers, how _hot_ he felt… it reminded her how hot he got when he was over her, thrusting into her, filling her, making her come so hard the world disappeared, his name on her lips…

“Meet me upstairs,” he said again. “Left staircase, turn left, around the corner, third door down.”

“Oliver,” she breathed.

“ _Now_ ,” was all he said and then he let her go, the crowd swallowing him up before she could give him one more weak objection.

*

It was twenty minutes later that Felicity finally made her way upstairs.

She’d stayed at the bar for a second, forcing herself to _not_ move, telling herself she wasn’t going to go after him, that she wasn’t going to join him, that she damn well was not going to have sex with him in his stupid giant house at the office party his family was throwing where they were supposed to stay downstairs with everyone else.

_No._

It took her two and a half minutes of just standing there, not talking to anyone, barely looking at anyone before she turned abruptly and set her glass down, not noticing the way Tom deliberately did _not_ look at her before she was making her way through the crowd, towards the stairs.

She didn’t even have to think about it, it wasn’t something she _let_ herself think about.

Her body thrummed with need, and it’d only gotten worse as her thighs rubbed together with each hurried step. 

When she brushed against the people she moved through, she felt little jolts that headed straight for her core, leaving her practically panting with a need to come that pounded through her veins.

She shouldn’t have come to the party, she knew that… but the thought was so far in the back of her mind that it was too easy to tell herself to worry about it later, worry about anyone seeing her or him, worry about if the bartender had heard more than he needed to, if he’d talk, if people would find out.

She just didn’t _care_.

Just as Felicity had reached the base of the stairs, Caitlin and Ronnie had appeared, followed quickly by Barry and Cisco.

Later, when she’d think back to it, she’d recoil in mortification because she barely remembered what she said to them, barely remembered how long she stood there, dancing on the tips of her toes; she’d wonder if her laughter sounded forced, or if her words sounded false, every inch of her focused on getting up those stairs…

It didn’t take her long to extract herself with the excuse that she needed to use the bathroom before she was climbing the stairs, telling them she’d be right back, that she’d meet them by the bar in a few minutes.

The upstairs hallways only had a few people wandering around, and she nodded politely to some of them before she glanced around as nonchalantly as she could, trying to look like she was admiring the art and statues positioned here and there, but really looking to see if anyone was watching her before she followed Oliver’s directions.

In one blink she was making her way down the hallway, and in the next she was at the third door down, gently turning the knob of the closed door.

The second it opened, she paused, holding her breath.

_This was stupid._

The thought slammed in to her and she froze, closing her eyes. She was in the Queen Manor, sneaking off to sleep with the man that was technically her boss in his home, sneaking away from a party that his father’s company was throwing for people like her, the employees, at their mansion, almost like they wanted to give them a taste of what it was like to be a Queen, to show them what their lives were like on a daily basis, to show them how successful of a company they were all part of…

How many of these parties had Oliver attended living in this place?

How many women had he brought up to this room?

That alone had her hesitating.

_What was she doing?_

“Felicity.”

His voice came from inside the room, and just as quickly as the hesitation had come on, it was gone at the sound of her first name coming off his lips in a husky rasp - she could hear the annoyance in his voice, because he’d been waiting for her, and it stoked a sudden fire in her gut, one that had her scoffing as she pushed the door open and slipped inside.

It was dark save for one of the lamps on a nightstand.

It was a bedroom, obviously one of the guest bedrooms considering the neutral décor and meticulously clean bedspread. The light coming from the lamp was dull, and it barely highlighted Oliver where he sat at a large vanity, leaning back in the padded chair, his eyes on her. 

Felicity’s eyes slid to the mirror for a split second, to his reflection and that of the bed, before going back to him.

His tie was already loosened, his legs spread out casually.

His face was blank.

Felicity closed the door behind her with a soft click, effectively cutting off the remnant sounds from the party downstairs.

The silence that reigned between them was heavy as she leaned back against the door, her fingers spreading out, the cool wood feeling good against her hot fingers. 

“You’re late,” he said quietly.

She didn’t respond.

A long moment passed, her eyes adjusting to the soft light in the room, his visage becoming more and more clear as they stared at each other… waiting for one of them to move first.

“Come here,” he finally said, cocking his head slightly.

Felicity didn’t move and his eyes narrowed, his body stiffening like he was about to get up and go to her.

“Unzip your pants,” she said, just loud enough for him to hear. A tiny smile pulled at his lips at her command, a command he didn’t immediately move to follow. Felicity dug her nails into the door to keep herself from moving, her eyes never leaving his… until he moved. Oliver kept his gaze on her, his hands slowly moving to the front of his slacks. He sat back a little, popping the button and then pulling the zipper down. She watched him pull the flaps open, her mouth going dry as she said, “Pull them down.”

Oliver did as she asked, lust darkening his features as he pulled them down along with his boxer briefs, just enough for his already-hard cock to spring free.

Felicity’s eyes dropped of their own volition and she bit her lip at the sight.

“C’mere,” he murmured and before she knew what she was doing, she was moving towards him. It took her an eternity just as much as she reached him in a second. She didn’t hear the soft thud of her clutch falling to the floor as his hands came out to grip her hips, tugging her between his legs. He craned his head back to look up at her, his hard cock swaying between them.

She barely kept herself from carding her fingers through his hair. Instead, she gripped his shoulders, staring down at him.

“Did you wear this for me?” Oliver asked, one hand slipping back to cover her ass while his other slid down the zipper running along the back of her waist, falling down her thigh. Felicity shivered at the question, not answering. “You thought about me when you put this on, didn’t you? Wondered if I’d like it, wondered if I’d want to take it off you.”

She bit her lip, staying silent, and his eyes dropped to her mouth as his fingers followed the zipper down until he reached her naked thigh.

“Did you think about me unzipping it… like this?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers again as his fingers gripped the little zipper and slowly - _slowly_ \- started pulling it up. “Did you?”

Her breath hitched, her heart jumping to life as he unzipped her dress. The material loosened, falling away around her. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he pulled the zipper all the way up, his other hand sliding across her ass - and _god_ , that made her sex clench with _need_ as he touched her so intimately, so knowledgably, knowing exactly what to do to make everything inside her melt - and up, catching the zipper, pulling it open the rest of the way.

Felicity took in a slow breath, her chest feeling tight as he dragged his hand down her naked hip, the dress feeling almost foreign now where it hung off her.

But he didn’t move to take it off. He left it hanging off her.

His fingers grazed over the thin band of her white lace panties, sending a cascade of goosebumps across her skin.

“Tell me,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she breathed, her lids fluttering.

“Yes what?” he pushed, and she swore she saw his cock swell, becoming thicker between them.

“I thought about you,” she said without thinking, digging her nails into his suit jacket. She felt his muscles moving underneath it as he lifted his hands, letting them skate over her skin so gently she barely felt him… but she did, she felt _everything_ and a light sheen of sweat broke out over her chest, leaving her feeling too hot underneath her dress.

“Did you touch yourself today?” he asked, his voice low and guttural. He pressed his hands flush against her, sliding them up her hips - her left hip was completely exposed to the cool air of the room, while the other was hidden under the awkward flaps of her dress, but he didn’t let that get in his way as he pushed his hands up underneath it, following her curves until he reached her ribs, until his fingers grazed her bra. He gripped her tightly, and she shuddered. “Did you?”

“Did _you_?” she countered, dragging her fingers against his throat, sliding one hand to the back of his neck dragging her nails through the dewy hairs there while the other hovered over his Adam’s apple, feeling the vibration of his voice as he spoke.

“Yes,” Oliver replied, a smug smile on his lips. “I jerked off right there, in your office.”

Her lips fell open at the image he painted.

“I thought about how your little hands looked wrapped around my cock,” he continued and she moaned, her eyes slipping shut for a second before she forced them open again to watch him. “I thought about coming all over you while you touched yourself, like you did before. Do you remember that?”

“Oliver,” she whined, swaying towards him, her thighs clenching. His fingers gripped her tightly.

“Did you touch yourself today, Felicity?” he whispered and she nodded uncontrollably, her chest rising with rapid breaths. “When?”

“When I got home.” 

“How?”

“My fingers… on my… I rubbed myself, thinking about you, thinking about your mouth on me… I thought about you, sucking…” He hissed at that and a helpless smile decorated her face. “Because I knew you wouldn’t be able to last.”

Oliver chuckled, his hands falling down her back. “So what’s my punishment?”

The question threw her off for a second and she blinked, fumbling to answer.

“You, uh… you have to…” Felicity took a breath, her mind racing through what she wanted him to do, and how… and for how long. She bit the tip of her tongue and he moved his hands down to cup her naked ass as he propped his chin on her stomach, waiting for her answer. He kneaded her, spreading the cheeks slightly, forcing the thin slip of her thong deeper between them. “Make me come… with just your mouth.” She licked her lips, looking down at him, finding strength in the naked need on his face. “For as long as I say.”

“That sounds more like a reward,” Oliver replied and she sucked her lip between her teeth as she slowly shook her head.

“For hours, Oliver,” she whispered and he arched an eyebrow. “Until I can’t walk.”

“Can’t walk, huh?” he asked, slightly breathless, and desire scorched through her at how much he got off on eating her out, desire that had her moving to cup his face, leaning over him until her lips brushed against his, just barely, both of them knowing they couldn’t kiss, not there… 

The tables slowly turned between them as it was her turn to tease him, and he held onto her as she whispered, “I want you to make me come over and over until I forget my name, Oliver, until I’m numb. I want to ride your face until I can’t move, until you’re so hard, so turned on, that all it takes is one little brush of my hand and you’re coming…”

His eyes slammed shut, his lips trembling underneath hers as he breathed, “Fuck, Felicity."

The desperation lacing his voice, the need she felt in the way he touched her, in how he held her, in how tightly he gripped her, it rocketed through her, and she gasped his name, nearly pressing her lips to his… almost, so close…

God, she _needed_ him, she needed him so badly she _burned_ for it.

It would scare her, later, how far gone she was in that moment, how far gone both of them were, how easy it would be for them to throw caution to the wind and kiss each other with abandon, for them to shed all their clothes and ruin the perfectly-made bed…

“Oliver…”

“Later,” he murmured. “Later, I will live between your goddamn thighs.” She laughed at that, grinning against his lips. “But right now…”

He pulled back to look at her.

“Take off your panties.”

It should have pissed her off, the way he asked her, she knew that… but it didn’t. It just turned her on even more and she slowly stepped back, watching him watch her as she hooked her fingers in the thong she wore. His eyes grew dark with arousal as he stared at her fingers, and just as he moved to grip himself, pumping a few times, the head of his cock shiny with precum, she turned around and pulled her panties down.

Oliver choked on his next breath, hissing with his next one, as she bent all the way over, pulling her panties down, squeezing her thighs together, tightening her vaginal muscles, feeling the cool air of the room on her sex. She was wet, so wet, and her panties were soaked through with her juices, leaving a mess down the inside of her thighs as they slid down her legs. She stood up again, hearing the rustle of his pants and then he had his wallet out. He dropped it on the floor in the next second, the sound of a condom wrapper tearing open sounding as she pulled one foot through her thong…

He didn’t give her a chance to step all the way out.

Oliver had the condom rolled down his length and in the next breath was grabbing her hips, pulling her backwards. Felicity let out a startled, “Oh,” as he moved her until she was facing the mirror of the vanity, until all she saw was her flushed face and her unzipped dress hanging off her, saw her lips that looked swollen and agitated despite not having been kissed, and his hands wrapped around her from behind - the contrast was stark, one hand on her naked left hip, the other on her dress where it still covered her right one, barely catching small glimpses of him where he sat behind her.

The sight was incredibly erotic, so erotic that it amped up her need to near deafening levels.

Felicity fell forward, leaning on the vanity, her eyes on his hands. 

“Spread your legs,” he grunted and she did just that, opening them for him and he pulled her back against him until she was straddling him backwards. Felicity flipped her dress out of the way, catching a glimpse of his straining cock in the mirror. She whimpered and reached down, gripping him, making him groan, “Yes…”

Felicity leaned back against him and she watched in the mirror as his arms wrapped around her, holding her up as she guided him to her entrance.

His face was pressed into her back, his chest rising and falling as he panted, his muscles trembling.

She was so wet, so ready for him, that when angled her hips for him to slip into her, he went in smoothly, without resistance, sliding right into her.

“Oh my god,” Felicity gasped as she sat down fully in his lap, her eyes slipping down to where he entered her. She was at the perfect angle to see _them_ , to see her exposed sex spread open, to see his cock filling her so _perfectly_. She shuddered at the sight, falling forward to grip the edge of the vanity, but Oliver held her up, his arms shaking as he shifted her over just enough so he could see as well.

His eyes skated over her, his face slack with desire - _for her_ \- and then his eyes found hers in their reflection.

“Oh god,” she whimpered, lifting herself up as much as she could, her arms wrapping around his where he embraced her from behind, her eyes never leaving his as she thrust back down, the movement so tiny and infinitesimal, but _so much_ at the same time. A bone-deep pleasure shot through her, slicing through her center, heading straight for her core and she gasped, doing it again, feeling the difference in how he filled her like this - she was so full, and she was so tender, so sensitive, that every little move had her quivering for _more_. “Oliver…”

Oliver held her, helping her lift up and fall back down, her hips thrusting down, his hips rotating against hers, making them both moan. 

Their eyes never left the other, watching each other as the chair groaned under their combined weight, their breathy cries slowly growing louder with each thrust. She felt him gritting his teeth, felt his muscle bunching underneath her, felt the tendons in his arm tightening as his fingers dug into her where he had his arms wrapped around her, heard his low grunts as he lifted her higher, pulling her down harder.

Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure through her, sending acid racing through her veins, her nerves tingling. Her mouth fell open, mindless cries falling from her throat as they watched each other in the mirror, his thick shaft filling her over and over, so good, so perfectly, so, so good…

She felt her release, she felt it building... but it wasn’t enough, she needed more.

_More._

“Touch me,” Felicity gasped, threading her fingers through his hand and tugging it down. His other arm tightened to keep her upright as she pulled their fingers between her legs, pushing his against her clit. The second they grazed the sensitive pearl, her back bowed, a loud cry echoing in the room. He was so taut behind her, so strong and sure as he moved his fingers so both of them were playing with her clit, both of them feeling how swollen and hard it was, so tender and ready… “Oh god, oh god, yes, yes, yes…!”

“God,” he croaked, his voice cracking, his fingers forcing hers to move faster against her clit, making her hand tremble with the force of her growing orgasm as she thrust down on him, his eyes never leaving hers. “Come… come for me, I need you to come, Felicity.”

“Oliver,” she whined, keeping her eyes open until she couldn’t anymore, until the pleasure was too much, until it was all too much. “Oh god, oh god…”

“I… god, Felicity, I can’t…”

The pleasure was blinding, filling her rapidly, an inferno searing through her, across her skin and through her veins, burning her from the inside out. Every inch of her was concentrated on him, on his cock filling her, his fingers on her clit as she bounced on him, over and over… higher and higher, so close… so close…

“ _Fuck_ ,” Oliver moaned and in the next instant, her feet left the ground as Oliver stood up, taking her with him, falling forward into the vanity. 

Felicity shouted in surprise, her hands flying out for something to hold onto as he never left her, staying buried deep inside her, his body blanketing her from behind, his hand still between her legs, still on her clit.

The change in angle had him pressing against a spot deep inside her and Felicity shouted again, her back bowing, the shout dying into a soundless scream as Oliver fell on top of her and pulled his hips back before slamming into her with so much force the entire vanity shuddered. He did it again, and again, the sound of his pelvis slapping against her ass filling the room, echoing their pleasure-filled moans as he fucked her from behind. 

Felicity fumbled for something to hold onto, for anything, her hand falling on the mirror for leverage to meet his thrusts, her other propping herself up as he pushed her back towards her orgasm, the intense rush of pleasure spiraling out of control. It was even hotter, even more powerful, to the point it felt like it was slicing her open from the inside out as he thrust into her, harder… harder…

“Yes, yes, oh god…” she whimpered, digging her nails into the mirror. “Oh god… ah, ah…!”

His fingers slid over her clit and it sent her over the edge.

Felicity came with a harsh shout, her orgasm shooting through her. She didn’t feel her nails digging into the mirror, didn’t feel her elbow aching or toes crying out where she stood on them to meet his thrusts. She only felt _him_ , heard his groan when her inner walls clenched around him, sucking him in _deeper_ , heard the rattle of the vanity as he thrust even harder, losing all rhythm, his pleasure coming out in a drawn out cry right against her ear.

She opened her eyes and found his in the reflection where he’d been watching her and the second they made contact, Oliver came, thrusting into her one last vicious time with a harsh, “Oh god, Felicity!” his fingers gripping her so tightly he’d leave bruises as he dug his face into neck, muffling his cries, his entire body jerking against her with the force of his release.

A long minute passed, the air filled with the soft rustle of their clothes, the gentle brush of naked skin on naked skin, their harsh breathing…

Felicity’s lungs burned for oxygen, her elbows starting to ache where she held them both up. Oliver barely kept himself off her enough to not crush her as he nuzzled his face against her shoulder, both their heartrates finally starting to slow. His heart pounded against her back, echoing her own, as their breaths gradually calmed, until they were breathing together.

They didn’t speak.

They didn’t have to.

When Oliver finally pulled out of her, Felicity whimpered, slumping against the vanity. He kept his hand on her back, like he was making sure she was okay, and she found herself nodding, reassuring him wordlessly, her voice not working just yet. He squeezed her back softly in response before he moved away, dragging his fingers down her spine, making her shiver.

Felicity slowly pushed herself up as Oliver pulled his pants back up, removing the used condom, tying it off, disappearing into the bathroom to throw it away. She heard the sound of the toilet paper, the sound of him wiping himself off as she leaned over, tugging her panties back on. Her legs were unsteady and she leaned into the vanity, closing her eyes for a second before pulling them up. 

She had them mid-thigh when he reappeared behind her again.

“Hang on,” Oliver whispered, wrapping his arm around her waist before slipping his other hand full of tissues between her legs. Her breath hitched, her hands flying to the arm around her waist as he wiped her clean. 

She shuddered with a soft groan when the soft tissue slipped over her sensitive clit.

Felicity watched him in the mirror where he watched his hand between her legs as he wiped away as much of her wetness as he could before looking up, meeting her gaze.

Time seemed to stand still as they stared at each other.

They still didn’t speak, the quiet intimacy of the moment like a delicate bubble that neither of them wanted to shatter.

Felicity took a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy sigh, finding herself leaning back against him as he crinkled the used tissue up, tightening his grip on her waist. 

By some unspoken agreement, they looked away at the same time, Oliver moving back to the bathroom as she tugged her panties back up. 

They were cold and wet, and she shivered, concentrating on her reflection, using it to guide her as she re-zipped her dress.

The mirror was smeared where her hand had fallen, smeared with her arousal.

Oliver came back out, switching the bathroom light off.

He stepped up behind her again, his hands ghosting over her shoulders as Felicity stood up, smoothing her dress down… and then he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind.

“Can I come over tonight?” he whispered, propping his chin on her shoulder, his fingers stroking her hip, his eyes on her.

Felicity smiled lazily, tilting her head into his… but she didn’t get the chance to answer.

The door to the room suddenly opened, letting in a shock of light, followed quickly by the loud din of the party downstairs, thoroughly crushing the moment.

Felicity gasped, instinctively spinning towards the light, a harried, “What?” on her lips before she realized what she was doing and then she spun back the other way, her heart leaping into her throat, a jolt of horror swamping her. 

The gentle ease and relaxation she’d been floating it was instantly eradicated as the realization of what was happening hit her. 

_Oh god, someone was in there, someone saw them, someone knew._

Oliver was already ahead of her - he twisted them, angling his body to cover her completely as he turned to face the intruder.

“Get the hell out of here!” he snapped.

The person just huffed out an amused laugh, a sound Felicity was very, very familiar with. Her heart plummeted, her eyes squeezing shut as she froze, holding onto Oliver with a quiet, “Oh god.”

“I thought I’d find you up here, Oliver,” Isabel Rochev said, her voice flat with amused disdain as she stepped further into the room. “I see old habits die hard for the Queen men.”

Felicity could barely _hear_ anything past the roaring thump of her heartbeat in her ears.

“Get the hell out of here, Isabel,” Oliver said, shifting even more to keep Felicity as hidden as possible and she found herself shrinking to hide behind his large frame, turning into him, wanting to shrink even further until she disappeared. “ _Now_.”

“Your father’s looking for you,” she replied with mock patience. “It’s nice that you have your little friend here, but you are still working, Oliver.”

“I’ll be down in a second,” he said, his voice sharp. “Now get the fuck out.”

“Don’t take too long.” 

Felicity could hear the smile in her voice, and it made her stomach churn.

Oh god, could she see her, did she know it was her in there with him? Had she _heard_ them earlier - they hadn’t been quiet, neither of them had been quiet, and she had more than shouted Oliver’s name and his ridiculous tendency to slip into using her first name when he was inside her had echoed through the room, over and over…

And she hadn’t _cared_ when he’d been fucking her up against the goddamn vanity, _she hadn’t cared_ , what had she been thinking?

And now…

_Did Isabel know?_

Felicity bit the tip of her tongue, not moving an inch.

“Isabel,” Oliver bit out, enunciating each syllable for emphasis. “Get. Out. _Now_.”

Felicity could perfectly imagine Isabel lifting her hands in mock surrender, that little smirk on her lips as she gave Oliver a look, a look that said she knew so much more than she had any business knowing.

_Oh god._

“Fine, fine. Just hurry up.”

A second later the door slipped shut again.

Oliver let out a heavy breath, right against the back of her neck.

Felicity wasn’t breathing, she _couldn’t_ breathe.

“That was close,” he breathed, not moving, not letting her go.

“Too close,” Felicity whispered absently, her tongue feeling heavy.

“You okay?” he asked, and she wondered if he could feel her heart racing. Was his heart beating as fast as hers? She couldn’t tell, she didn’t know if that was hers or if she was feeling his. 

Hers was racing so hard and fast it was making her feel faint. 

And numb.

They’d almost gotten caught, by Isabel of all people.

_Too close._

She couldn’t think, she couldn’t do anything but… _nothing_ , she couldn’t do anything. She should say something, should be thinking something, thinking about what happens next, what just happened, but…

“Felicity?”

She felt oddly detached all of a sudden. 

Felicity patted his hand with a quiet, “Let me go.” 

Oliver instantly responded, setting her back down on her feet and her hand fluttered out blindly as she stared at… nothing, she was staring at nothing. She found the vanity and she leaned forward on it, vaguely hearing it groan as it accepted all her weight.

She couldn’t feel her feet.

Her hands were shaking. _She_ was shaking, every inch of her was shaking.

Close.

Too close.

_“I thought I’d find you up here, Oliver.”_

Her stomach twisted, nausea making her vision blur, acid climbing up her throat.

_“I see old habits die hard…”_

What was she doing?

“Felicity?”

Oliver touched her back, his other hand falling on her shoulder and she stepped away from him with a tremulous, “I’m fine.”

He was frowning. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding, looking back at him. She didn’t meet his eyes. “You should go, if your dad’s looking for you.” He opened his mouth to say something but she shook her head, her voice sharp as she said, “Oliver, go, I’m fine. I just need a second, okay?”

“Hey,” he said again and her eyes snapped back to hers.

“I’m fine. Just go.” 

Oliver hesitated, staring at her. 

Felicity closed her eyes, severing the connection. She felt him still there, felt his hand moving, like she could _feel_ the air particles making way for him, felt the heat of his hand as he hovered over her… but then he pulled back with a quiet, “Okay.”

And then he was gone.

Close.

Too close.

Her heart was _racing_.

The second he closed the door, Felicity waited for as long as she could to make sure he was gone before she let out a quiet little sound - a sob that came from deep in her chest - before she swallowed it back down. 

She took a deep breath, but the air didn’t reach her lungs, her chest slowly started tightening as the last few minutes hit her. 

“Oh god,” she whispered, closing her eyes, feeling a rush of tears, her eyes burning.

Felicity sat down in the chair, the chair they’d just been in - _together_ \- and wrapped her arms around herself, rocking softly, shaking her head.

She couldn’t stop shaking, what was wrong with her, she wasn’t… she couldn’t…

“What am I doing?”

*

Felicity left the room a few minutes later.

She’d sat in the chair, waiting for her hands to stop shaking, but when they didn’t, she’d finally made tight fists, chastising herself - she knew _exactly_ what she’d been getting into, she knew exactly what this, what it had always been. She’d just gotten careless, reckless, and they’d almost gotten caught as a result, that was all.

They just had to be more careful.

_“I see old habits die hard.”_

This was who Oliver Queen was. She knew that, she’d _always_ known that. He’d made a point of making it part of their _arrangement_ more than once, starting with Helena, and it’d actually been good because it reminded her what she was doing, and _who_ she was doing it with. She was… having sex with Oliver Queen, that was it, nothing else. So what if they’d been spending more time together outside of work, waking up later than usual, being more _open_ about what it was they were doing with each other… 

She was an idiot to forget that he was Oliver Queen… and this is what Oliver Queen did.

It wasn’t what _she_ did though.

Not until she met him.

_What was she doing?_

Felicity thought about leaving, getting up and leaving the party, going home… but that felt like running, and she didn’t _run_. No, she wasn’t a runner, damn it. So what if they’d almost gotten caught - _almost_. It hadn’t happened.

It hadn’t.

No, she wasn’t leaving.

Instead, Felicity had forced herself to get up, to go into the bathroom, to wash her hands and check her makeup - it was immaculate, still, not even smudged - and then she’d grabbed some tissue paper, wetting it and she’d washed the vanity mirror as best she could, not really realizing how robotic her movements were, how she stared at the mirror blankly, not really… _processing_.

Isabel didn’t know, she was sure of it. It would have ended very, very differently otherwise, very differently.

It was that thought that steadied her, that calmed her racing heart, that let her breathe again, that let her pick up her clutch and leave the room.

She almost half-expected Isabel to be waiting at the bottom of the stairs, but she wasn’t.

The party was carrying on as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t just almost had her entire world turned upside down.

But it hadn’t been.

She had to remember that, because things were fine, everything was fine. 

Felicity went back downstairs, joining the crowd of people, making her way back into the main room. She didn’t look for Oliver as she made her way to the bar - a different bar, feeling the overwhelming need to avoid Tom.

She needed wine, and then to find Caitlin and Barry again, and Cisco.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“Red wine, please,” Felicity said, the words coming out ridiculously quiet. When the bartender cocked her head, ready to ask Felicity to repeat it, she cleared her throat and said it again, this time with a smile.

She was _fine_.

“Ms. Smoak.”

And then it all came crashing down around her as Felicity’s blood ran cold.

Isabel sidled up next to her, holding a martini glass filled with something dark, the liquid matching the color of her nails as she cocked her head, her eyes on Felicity.

“Ms. Rochev,” Felicity said, forcing her lips to keep smiling as she turned to look at her - good, she sounded fine, normal. “Hi.”

The brunette’s smile widened, not returning the greeting. Instead… “I like your shoes.”

Felicity’s heart stopped, and the smile on her lips faded.

Her shoes.

 _No_.

“Uh… thank you,” she said, looking down at them, her heart taking off at the speed of light as she stared at them. “They’re… uh…” 

They were the only thing Isabel had been able to see of her upstairs.

 _Oh god_. 

“I thought you had better judgment, Ms. Smoak,” Isabel said, narrowing her eyes in sympathy, or what she was sure was supposed to be sympathy. Felicity felt more like a piece of prey that had just been cornered by a predator… and that was exactly what Isabel Rochev was, _a predator_. And she knew it.

Felicity felt like throwing up, right there, and she turned back to the bartender with a, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just so you know,” Isabel continued, leaning in like she was sharing a secret. “You’re not the only one he took up there tonight.”

“What?” Felicity breathed before she could stop herself, her voice cracking slightly as she turned back to her, and the second the word left her lips, she knew she’d just given herself away, in more ways than one.

Isabel grinned, a slow, meticulous grin that made her icy eyes grown even colder. She let out a faint chuckle, cocking her head as she stared at Felicity, the sound cutting through the air like a razorblade.

“Have a nice night, Ms. Smoak.”

*

When her phone rang several hours later, her screen lighting up on her nightstand, shining a spotlight up to her ceiling, Felicity didn’t have to look at it to know it was Oliver.

She let it ring.

When he showed up at her door a few minutes after that, he knocked softly.

She didn’t answer.

He waited, knocking again before calling her phone.

She still didn’t move.

Felicity stayed right where she was, sitting on the floor, her back pushed up against her couch, her shoes set out neatly next to her, still wearing her red dress as she listened to the quiet rumble of Oliver’s voice on the other side of the front door as he left her a message.

He waited for a moment, hesitating.

She could hear the shuffle of his feet on the concrete outside her door.

He finally left.

She didn’t move again for hours.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	7. 3:20 a.m. Felicity's Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver comes home late from a business trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: This story is being told out of order! You can now view the **[Four Walls Timeline](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/fourwalls)** , listing the fics as they happen chronologically for Oliver and Felicity.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, here’s my [Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).

Oliver slid his key into the lock, twisting it quietly, listening for the latch to slide before he opened it gently, stepping inside.

The living room was scattered with boxes, most of them still half-empty, some taped up and ready to go, others still folded up in the corner, waiting to be filled. He shook his head with a smile - she was supposed to have spent the last few days packing, and it looked like she’d gotten a lot of stuff _ready_ for packing, but the actual packing part had never happened.

A soft light was on in the bedroom. It shined out into the hallway, reflecting off the picture frames stacked against the walls. 

“Felicity?” he called softly, setting down his suitcase, dropping his keys on the counter. 

When he didn’t get a response, Oliver pulled his jacket off, tossing it onto the armchair. Toeing his shoes off, he kicked them near the messy pile of her sneakers and heels that always took three weeks to migrate back into her closet before making his way down the hallway.

“Felicity?”

Nothing.

The first thing he saw were her bare feet hanging off the edge of the mattresses stacked on the floor - they’d taken the bed apart before his trip, one last thing to do before the move tomorrow - followed by her naked, shapely legs. She was sprawled on her side across the center of the bed, her face smooshed against the arm she was using as a pillow. Her glasses were skewed, her mouth hanging open slightly, her other hand barely holding open the book she’d been reading before she’d fallen asleep.

Oliver paused, smiling at the sight she made. Only his fiancée could look so painfully cute while still being so goddamn sexy, wearing a pair of lacy boy shorts that had migrated up between her cheeks as she’d shifted, leaving her ass bare to his gaze, and a tiny tank top that was barely fit for sleeping in. She’d had the sheet over her at one point, but she’d moved enough that it wasn’t covering her any longer.

God, even two days away from her was two days too many, and no amount of calls or texts could fill the void of not having her by his side.

He couldn’t wait until they were officially moved in, until he was living with her, until he got to see her every single day, every single night. 

Oliver quickly undid a few of the buttons on his shirt, just enough that he could pull it over his head along with the undershirt, dropping it to join her clothes on the floor. His pants were next as he made his way towards her, catching sight of himself wearing nothing but tented boxer briefs in the long mirror facing the bed - it was goddamn ridiculous that he just had to _look_ at her and he was already hard.

He paused long enough to take his socks off before he joined her.

Oliver blanketed her body with his, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. She sighed, stretching underneath him. He pressed a series of soft kisses along her neck, up to her ear and into her hair where he inhaled deeply, breathing her in. Felicity reached up, her hand finding the back of his head, pressing him closer, leaving her abandoned book to fall off the bed with a light thud.

“You’re home,” she whispered sleepily, smiling, arching her neck to give him more access as he moved his way back down again.

“I missed you,” Oliver replied, pressing the length of his body against hers, delighting in the little noises she made when he pressed the growing hardness in his boxers against her ass. “A lot.”

“Mm…” Felicity chuckled under her breath. “I missed you too.” She bit her bottom lip, arching her back to press back into him, making him inhale sharply when her ass spread enough for him to slip between her cheeks slightly. “A lot.” 

Oliver grinned and thrust against her, wrapping his lips around her earlobe, his tongue flicking it. She rewarded him with a needy whimper before reaching behind both of them, slipping her fingers under his boxers. Felicity pressed her nails into his ass, urging him closer as she arched her back. 

With a barely audible, “ _Felicity_ ,” Oliver pushed her onto her stomach, leaving her hanging off the bed. 

Her hands dropped to the floor to hold herself up as he straddled her from behind.

“I see you got a lot of packing done,” Oliver said as he sat up, trailing his fingers down her back until he reached the hem of her tank top. He slipped his hands underneath it and Felicity shifted with a soft moan. He pushed it up and out of the way, his fingers following her spine back down, drifting over her sensitive lower back and down to her panties. “We’re moving tomorrow, Felicity.”

“I know,” she breathed, pushing herself up enough to look in the mirror. Her eyes met his. “I was going to do it today, but then…” Oliver slipped a finger under the band of her panties and snapped it against her skin, making her yelp. “Ow, hey!”

“How exactly is that going to work…” Oliver whispered. He leaned over her, staring at her in the mirror; his eyes never left hers as he pressed his erection against her ass again. “… if we’re in bed all day?”

“Well,” she replied breathlessly, “we can’t be in bed all day.” 

“If you’re going to be walking around wearing nothing but this, yes we damn well will be in bed all day,” he said and she giggled.

Oliver moved against her again and Felicity’s eyes fluttered shut, her hand flying back to his ass. She dug her nails in deeper this time, making him hiss, the tiny bite of pain amplifying the pleasure slowly starting to spread through him. He hummed under his breath, blanketing her body with his, his lips pressing against the back of her head as he arched his back, pressing himself against her.

Felicity moaned, and he wanted more.

“How about... a rewards system?” Oliver asked.

A strangled, “What?” was her response.

“For every box we get packed,” he started, nuzzling his face against the back of her neck, brushing her hair out of the way. The second his lips touched the sensitive area at the top of her spine, she bowed her head, arching into him and his tongue darted out to taste her. He dropped a series of wet kisses across her skin, pressing his face closer, his stubble scraping, making her gasp his name. Her breathing slowly became more rapid, her skin growing warmer… When he reached her neck again, Oliver whispered, “You get a kiss,” just before he sunk his teeth into her tender flesh.

“Aah!” she cried out, pushing herself back against him. 

Felicity whimpered, thrusting her ass back against him, seeking more friction. Oliver obliged her, sucking on the area he’d just bitten as he slid his hand down her side, slipping it underneath her hips. They both moved at the same time, lifting up just enough to give him access, and he took advantage of it, pushing his hand into her panties. His fingers slid between her wet nether lips, the tips of his fingers brushing over her swollen clit as he settled over her, thrusting down.

The movement sent her clit gliding right over his fingers and she gave him a breathless cry, every inch of her starting to tremble as she let go completely, trusting him to take care of her.

Oliver shivered at that, pressing himself closer to her.

Starting tomorrow, he was going to be able to do this every single night, for the rest of their lives. He was going to be able to touch her, hold her, remind her that he knew how damned lucky he was to be there, to be with her, to have her… 

_He couldn’t wait._

Oliver couldn’t believe how goddamned lucky he was, and he had every intention of showing her just how grateful he was.

Felicity moved mindlessly underneath him, grinding herself down on his hand, pressing her clit against his hard fingers. She panted his name and when Oliver looked in the mirror, he saw her hair shuddering with the force of her movements, from having to hold herself up, her nailbeds turning white with how hard she was digging her fingers into the floor.

“Oh god,” she whined, and a flood of wetness coated his fingers. God, she felt good, so damn good. He loved how wet she was for him, how he barely had to touch her and she was weeping with need, seeking his touch, yearning for it… “Please…”

“Please what?” he whispered, leaning over her. His lips found her earlobe again and he sucked it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it, making her moan. “What do you want, Smoak?”

“Please,” she whimpered. “Please don’t stop.”

“Tell me…” he breathed, arching into her. She shivered at his request, and his body hardened at the thought of what she might say, that she knew what he was asking, that she would give him what he wanted… just like she always did. Oliver pinned her down, his voice low with demand. “Tell me, Smoak.”

“Oh god,” Felicity whimpered, melting against him before frantically whispering, “Don’t stop… don’t stop touching me… my… my clit, rub my clit, please…” She inhaled sharply, her hips moving against him, but he didn’t move, not yet. “ _Please_ … I’m so close, I’m so… don’t stop… don’t stop…”

“God, Felicity,” Oliver moaned and then he stiffened his fingers, lifting them up to give her more surface.

Felicity’s back bowed, her head flying up, letting him see her fully in the mirror. She was _stunning_ \- her skin flushed darker with her oncoming orgasm, a dusky pink that made her glow. Her mouth was open in a desperate pant, her eyes closed tight, the tops of her breasts threatening to spill out of her tank top as he rocked against her, as she thrust down on his hand.

She was beautiful, so beautiful…

Oliver moved, sliding the length of his dick against her ass, but it wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. He needed more. He craved the feeling of her slick inner walls clamping down around him, _squeezing_ him…

“Felicity,” he breathed. He wasn’t going to last much longer, and if he wanted to be inside her… 

Her movements became more urgent, losing rhythm. He felt her muscles starting to stiffen, her breaths coming in quick pants, all her concentration on his fingers, on reaching her release. A hot flush covered her, making her skin feel like it was on fire underneath him. 

When she started to bounce slightly as she rode his hand, she rubbed herself right against his hard cock, and Oliver moaned her name.

“Oh…” she cried, her voice catching. “Oh god, don’t… Oliver…!” 

Felicity suddenly stiffened, her hips surging forward as she reached her peak. 

Oliver moved without thinking, rocking his hand against her clit, rubbing her right where she needed him to. He felt her clit swell, hardening, so slick against his fingers. She shuddered, her hips arching into him… her breathless gasps of, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” echoing against the empty walls…

She was close, so close, he could feel it in the way she shook, her muscles quivering.

Oliver rubbed faster, pressing his lips to her ear, whispering, “Come for me, baby, come for me…” And with a sudden shout, she did. Felicity came, her back arching, her hips undulating against him, over and over. She rode her orgasm out, jerking against him, her cries melting into silent ones until she had nothing left to give.

Felicity collapsed on the bed, nearly falling forward, but Oliver pinned her down, rocking against her, hissing when her ass cheeks clenched, sliding along his length.

He needed _more_.

Oliver pushed himself up, yanking his hand out of her panties, making her groan. His fingers were slick with her arousal; it smeared all over him as he rolled off the bed, pushing his boxers down. His cock bounced free and he wrapped his hand around himself, right at the base, squeezing himself tightly.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, squeezing tighter to stave his own release. 

Not yet, he wanted to be inside her.

Oliver leaned over her, slipping his fingers under the band of her panties, gently tugging them down. She was a completely limp, barely lifting her hips to help him, staying right where she was. She managed a muffled, “Mmph,” as her wet panties dragged down her legs.

Dropping them on the floor, Oliver climbed back on the bed, and forced himself to take a second, to breathe. His cock throbbed with need, with the urge to bury himself deep inside her… instead, he slid his hand up and over her back. When his fingers skated over her ass, she shivered, and when they slipped over her lower back, traveling up her spine, she jerked, her hips coming up off the bed like he was touching her clit again, and it was too much.

“Spread your legs,” Oliver whispered and she did without hesitation. The smell of her arousal reached him and he inhaled deeply, savoring it. He wanted to taste her, to drink her in, but he wouldn’t last and he wanted to come inside her. Oliver pressed a quick kiss to her ass before moving up, sliding his body along hers.

When his cock slipped between her thighs, she moaned, spreading her legs even more.

Oliver settled over her. He braced himself on one hand, his other gripping himself as he dipped back, pressing between her legs. His eyes shut when he felt how wet she was… how sensitive _he_ was. 

Felicity whined under her breath, lifting her hips.

They moved together, Felicity opening herself for him as he angled his hips to find her entrance, his fingers guiding him… _there_.

“Oh god, Felicity.” She shivered, lifting her hips higher, letting him slide home. She was wet, so goddamn wet, and Oliver slid into her with ease, filling her completely. She moaned, her back arching, as he settled on top of her, and he went in deeper, brushing against that spot deep inside her… Her inner walls suddenly clamped down around him and Oliver groaned. “ _Fuck_.” 

The instant he was settled in her, Oliver braced himself on the edge of the mattress and pulled out, thrusting back in. The movement had her moving against the mattress, making her flutter around him, and he pulled out again, thrusting into her with even more force.

“Yes…” she gasped, moving to meet him. “Yes.”

He wasn’t going to last long, not with how tight she was, how wet, how close he was from rubbing against her as she’d come all over his fingers. The memory of how she’d flown apart underneath him pushed him higher and Oliver hissed. It quickly turned into a low moan when she reached behind him, cupping his ass, urging him closer.

Oliver thrust into her as deep as he could, earning her soft cry as he filled her. 

She was everywhere, surrounding him - all he felt was her lithe body against his, her tight inner walls, her soft skin growing slick with sweat; the heady scent of her arousal mixing with his cologne and fabric softener from the sheets… 

He was home, with her, and where a few years ago that thought would have sent him running, now it filled him with a warm glow, a contentment he never could have fathomed, one that made everything more vivid.

Felicity whined his name as she held onto him, aiding him, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts. Her movements were sluggish and tired, but she met him every bit of the way, holding herself up for him. His thrusts pushed her across the bed, pressing against her sensitive clit and when Oliver angled his hips down, rubbing against that spot inside her, she cried out, echoing his whispers of her name.

They moved together, with each other. It was soft, gentle… _powerful_. It was a culmination of everything they’d been through to get to this point, where every touch was about expressing so much more than they could put into words… every touch was a reminder, a memory as much as it was paving a new way, a new path.

 _Their_ path.

Together.

He loved her, he loved her so much.

A low burn started at the base of his spine, and he groaned. 

Oliver’s breath hitched as he gritted his teeth, thrusting harder. 

The burn grew hotter, tighter… his toes tingled, his palms grew hot, his body tightened…

She felt so good, so perfect…

“Oh… _god_ ,” he breathed, thrusting harder. The gentle slap of his skin against hers grew louder, the vibrations from each hit radiating through her and back into him. “Felicity…”

Felicity took halting breaths, each one ending in a whimper as she bowed her head, meeting every single thrust.

His pleasure grew, spreading through him in an agonizing wave of pinpricks that traveled across every inch of his skin, rushing right back across the surface of his skin, right back to his center.

“Yes… Felicity…” he gasped. 

Oliver’s head dropped, his forehead landing on her shoulder, his fingers digging into the mattress to keep himself up. His muscles burned, his arms starting to shake. His eyes slipped shut as he thrust into her, over and over… harder… 

Her silken inner walls _squeezed_ him, pulling him in deeper - she was so wet. She felt so _good_. 

As he choked out a whispered, “Felicity,” she moaned his name, and he looked up, his eyes finding hers in the mirror. 

The instant they connected, his pleasure doubled and he gasped, nearly collapsing on top of her. 

Oliver barely kept himself up, one hand clinging to the edge of the mattress as he shoved his other one underneath her. He slid his hand between her legs again - she was soaking wet, drenching his fingers. 

Felicity cried out the instant he touched her tender clit, her back bowing.

Oliver gripped her tight, pushing her up closer to him as he thrust into her harder. The slap of his pelvis against her ass grew louder and louder, highlighting their combined cries, their eyes never leaving the other in the mirror. 

Everything around him fell away and for a blissful second, all that mattered was _her_. He saw nothing but her, felt nothing but her, wanted nothing but _her_ … 

He groaned, holding her tighter, moving faster. 

His pleasure built, turning into a white hot burn that gathered at the base of his spine, burning hotter and hotter… 

Oliver thrust into her, his world quickly zeroing in on her eyes, on the pleasure she gave him, the feeling of her body around him, all around him, her arousal soaking his hand, her clit sliding against his fingers, her cries growing louder. She surrounded him until it felt like they were one, until there was nothing left between them but pure bliss.

“Oh god,” she gasped. “Oh god!”

“Felicity… Felicity…!” 

Oliver came with a heady shout and a final thrust, one that nearly pushed them both off the bed as he spilled into her, her inner walls clamping down around him. He pushed himself up on his toes, pushing himself _deeper_ , a move that triggered her release. 

Felicity came with a pitiful, sharp cry, one that quickly dissolved into sobs of pleasure as he ground himself against her, prolonging both of their pleasure until he was spent. He barely caught himself from falling on top of her as his arm gave out, but it wasn’t enough; she took the bulk of his weight, and he shoved her right against the mattress and his hand.

“Oh!” Felicity whimpered, arching her hips away. “Too much, too much.”

“Sorry,” Oliver whispered, pushing himself up enough to pull out of her. He dropped to the bed next to her as she pushed herself back up onto the bed, just enough so she wasn’t hanging off the edge. Oliver draped his hand over her ass, tugging her closer, squeezing one of her cheeks.

“Hey now,” she murmured, the words slurring together, making him smile. She inched closer, cuddling against his side and Oliver turned into her. Felicity’s hand found his chest and she slid it up, her nails dragging over his throat and jaw until she cupped his cheek. She smiled lazily, her thumb caressing him. “I missed you. I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” Oliver replied, turning just enough to kiss her palm before he settled in again.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes… and twenty minutes later, when he moved to wrap himself around her and realized with a start that his legs were hanging off the bed, he opened them again, blinking himself awake. 

They’d fallen asleep. 

With a yawn he felt through his entire body, Oliver held Felicity closer, looking to see if he’d woken her.

She didn’t budge.

His fiancée was fast asleep next to him, dead to the world. Her arms were sprawled out around her, one hanging off the bed, the other tucked into his neck. Her mouth hung open slightly, a thin sliver of drool slipping from the corner of her lips.

Oliver smiled, drinking her in. She was so beautiful, so perfect… his Felicity.

For a long moment, he didn’t move. He just looked at her, his chest growing tighter with an eagerness he’d never felt in his life.

He was going to marry her. It’d only taken twenty-nine times for her to finally say yes, twenty-nine proposals, some random, some planned, and he would have done hundreds more if that was what it took. He’d thought a romantic one would have swept her off her feet, but no - she’d stopped where she’d been folding laundry one night and gave him a hard glare over her shoulder, saying, _“If you really think I’m going to actually agree while I’m folding up your disgusting boxers…”_ only to find him on his knee behind her. He hadn’t had the ring, it’d been upstairs, waiting for her to finally say yes - she’d seen it enough times that he hadn’t bothered hiding it anymore. He wasn’t sure what’d been different that night, in the laundry room, what had made her change her mind, but she had.

She’d said yes. 

_Finally_.

Oliver turned gently, careful not to wake her. He propped himself up and cupped the side of her head, slipping his fingers through her soft hair. It was a tangled mess of waves, the waves she only got when she let her hair air dry. Oliver leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

Her only response was a tiny snore that slipped past her lips.

His smile widening, Oliver kissed her again, letting himself linger, before he sat up. He gently pulled her glasses off, folding them before getting up.

He didn’t miss the way the light caught the ring on her left hand where it dropped back onto the bed.

Oliver went into the bathroom to clean up, kicking the scattered clothes tossed on the floor into one of the piles on his way - he wasn’t sure which one was dirty and which one was clean, or if they were both dirty, or what her system was exactly. 

He made a mental note to just clean everything on the floor while they were packing tomorrow. 

Glancing at the clock, he noted with a silent groan that tomorrow was already there and that they’d have to wake up in a few hours if they wanted to get everything done in time for the movers. 

Once he’d washed his hands and face, he fished out a pair of clean boxers and slipped them on before walking out into the living room to grab his phone. He put on two alarms, setting it right next to the bed so they’d hear them.

Felicity didn’t move once.

Oliver turned off the light and crawled back onto the bed. He picked her up, just enough to turn her so she wasn’t laying across the bed. The sheet was a tangled mess under the pillows, so he grabbed the comforter where it’d been shoved to the floor and draped it over them. 

The sudden brush of cool material over her legs made Felicity shift.

“Oliver?” she grumbled, her voice thick with sleep. She lifted her head, and he could perfectly imagine the confused frown on her face at the sudden changes around her. He heard her sniffle and the sound of her dragging her hand over her cheek to catch the drool.

“I’m here,” he whispered, slipping in behind her. Felicity made an indecipherable noise as Oliver wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. He pressed his leg between hers, tangling their feet together. “Go back to sleep.”

Felicity hummed, still half-asleep, before sighing. She laced her fingers through his - her engagement ring slid over his knuckles - and snuggled in.

She gave him a breathy, “Love you,” and in the next instant she was out, melting against him completely.

Oliver smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to her shoulder, whispering, “I love you,” against her skin. 

He settled in, cradling her close.

He was asleep in less than a minute.

They slept through the two alarms he set, and when they did wake up, they didn’t get out of bed for another hour. When they finally got up to start packing - after a shower that he knew they shouldn’t have taken together, but one he couldn’t deny her when she’d said, _“We need to make sure it’s working properly for the next couple”_ \- Oliver made good on his promise: 

With each box they got packed, Felicity got a kiss… wherever she wanted.

They ended up having to reschedule the movers for the next day.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	8. 8:42 p.m. Oliver’s Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity have a good day at work and she comes over for a little celebration. 
> 
> (Inspired by [Love On The Brain by Rihanna](https://youtu.be/gZQc5WGjUJU) \- suggested by ellefraser17.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: This story is being told out of order! You can now view the **[Four Walls Timeline](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/fourwalls)** , listing the fics as they happen chronologically for Oliver and Felicity.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, here’s my [Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).

Felicity knocked on his door, readjusting the wine bottle in her other hand, sliding the strap of her purse up higher on her shoulder. She glanced around, absently realizing she never saw any of his neighbors - not unless you counted the few times someone had cleared their throat when they’d gotten a little too distracted in the hallway…

_“Sorry, we were just…”_

Oliver pulled the door open. He hadn’t changed yet. He still wore his suit pants and his white undershirt, except now he was barefoot. Just as it always did, it sent a little shiver down her spine, for a reason she never let herself think about, and she wasn’t about to start now.

It’d been a good day, a very good day, and she had no intention of spoiling the moment.

Oliver smiled with a soft, “Hey,” as he stepped back to let her in.

“Hi yourself,” Felicity replied, following him into his apartment. It was softly lit, most of the lights still off like he’d just gotten home. His jacket, shirt and tie were thrown haphazardly over the counter in the kitchen, his shoes and socks in a messy pile near the door. She turned to him, holding up the bottle of wine as he shut the door. She couldn’t hold back her own smile when his eyebrows went up in surprise. “Congratulations.”

“Wow,” Oliver said, taking the bottle. In the same move, he wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her against his chest as he checked the label. His eyebrows shot up even higher when he saw what it was. “ _Wow_.”

“You deserve it,” Felicity said quietly, eyeing the bottle before looking up at him. “You did a good job today.”

“Do my ears deceive me,” Oliver asked, “or was that an actual compliment?” She leveled him with a look before rolling her eyes and Oliver’s smile slowly turned into a grin. “I never thought I’d see the day, Smoak.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” she replied and he chuckled, a real laugh that was written all over his face. It was just as contagious as it had been at the office except now she didn’t have to hide her own smile. She grinned before tapping his chest in mock chastisement. “And since it happens so rarely, Mr. Queen, I thought it was worthy of celebration.”

Oliver hummed a quiet, “Thank you,” under his breath before he leaned down.

His nose brushed against hers, his arm around her waist tightening. He pulled her more flush against him, against the hard lines of his body, sliding his hand down her side, over her hip and down to her ass. Oliver pressed her even closer and she inhaled sharply when she felt his growing hardness. Felicity sighed, instinctively arching into his touch, her eyes slipping shut as the low burn that seemed to live in the pit of her stomach these days started to spread. She wound her arms around his neck, lifting her leg and it was his turn to inhale sharply as she opened herself for him.

“Mm,” Oliver whispered, wrapping his other arm around her. The wine bottle bumped against her side as hiked her closer, his hand digging into her ass, making her moan. “It wasn’t just me though.”

“True,” Felicity breathed.

Oliver chuckled. The sound vibrated through his chest, his smile growing where his lips brushed over hers.

They swayed where they stood in the entrance to his apartment, wrapped around each other. Felicity slid her hands up into his hair, just how he liked it, scraping her nails over his scalp. Oliver let out a shaky sigh, his grip on her tightening, his head bowing until his forehead touched hers.

“But…” Felicity pulled back slightly, whispering the words she’d been thinking since she saw Robert Queen shaking his son’s hand after the judgment came in. It’d been the judgment they’d wanted, the judgment their department had helped the firm win. “I know how much this meant to you.”

His only reply was to tighten his arms slightly.

Oliver slowly pulled back to look at her, his eyes dancing over her face for a second before meeting her gaze again.

They both knew what this was - it was a moment, a stolen moment, one that would never leave this space in time. It was a moment granted by the simple fact that they worked together, that this trial had consumed the last several weeks, that they’d worked tirelessly on this project, and that all that work had paid off, that they both knew what had been at stake if the judge had gone the other way. But she hadn’t. She’d found for their client, and it’d been a huge win for Queen & Queen. And it was even sweeter because Robert Queen himself had been heading it up, and it was more than Oliver’s professional standing at stake. It wasn’t something they talked about, something they’d _ever_ talk about, but Felicity knew how much his position meant to Oliver, if only because of what it meant to show his father that he could handle it. It was something that still drove her crazy, because it meant Oliver’s motivations were ludicrous and she and her work got caught in the crossfire more often than not… but the look on his face when Robert had shaken his hand, when he’d said something that had made Oliver smile like he had…

This was a _moment_ , and as Oliver started at her, she knew he was on the same page. They could have this, this tiny moment where they put all the shit between them aside, made room for a moment that was about nothing but celebrating a good day, about sharing that good feeling…

Felicity fisted his hair lightly, tilting his head back just enough to line his mouth up with hers. His pupils blew wide, his eyes dropping down to her lips, and she tightened her hold on him, making him hiss softly. His fingers dug into her ass, his muscles tightening; she felt his bicep bulging against her back as his cock swelled, growing harder, his hips surging forward.

“Oliver,” she whispered, her voice husky.

He sighed, his lids growing heavy, his skin flushing. She titled his head again, forcing it back and his eyes slid shut. It was her turn to shiver at the realization of how willing he was to be completely at her mercy. A rush of warmth stole over her, making her sex throb with need as he stayed right there, waiting for her to do whatever she was going to do with him.

Felicity leaned forward, brushing her lips over his chin. His soft stubble bit into her, making them both shiver as she slowly moved her way down his jaw. She urged his head back further, dragging her lips down his throat. When she reached his pulse point, her tongue darted out to taste him.

Oliver groaned, his cock jumping within the tight confines of his pants and he gripped her even tighter, to the point he might bruise her again.

Felicity tasted him, sucking on the tender skin of his throat, and as the seconds passed, she felt the fine tremble growing in him.

He shifted in her arms, seeking friction, and when he got it, the sensation made both of them moan, with pleasure, with anticipation.

She moved her way up, up to his ear, moving him wherever she wanted. He whimpered, the muscles in his shoulders bunching tightly, and it sent a sharp whip of need slicing through her, a flood of arousal soaking her panties.

He let out a tremulous breath, his hips rotating in a quick, tight circle… but that was it, he didn’t do anything else. He waited for her and Felicity knew anything she wanted him to do, he would do it. But she didn’t want to play that game, not tonight. This moment wasn’t about that, it was about something more, and she didn’t want to burst the bubble.

Not yet.

Felicity closed her eyes and pressed her face against his. Oliver instantly turned into her, nuzzling her, his breathing coming out in heated pants as they pulled each other closer, just _feeling_. They held each other, their hips surging forward at the same time, making her moan. She pulled her leg up as high as she could, wrapping it around him and his hand slid from her ass and down her thigh. His fingers hooked in her knee, yanking her up even higher, his other arm tightening to hold her up as he took away her sense of balance.

The feeling of his muscles straining effortlessly to hold her up, his hardness pushing against her, his wet lips finding her neck…

“Oliver…” Felicity whispered, desperation making his name sound like a gasp. She pulled back, tugging on his hair. “Kiss me… kiss me.”

Their eyes met for a quick second, a second full of the heated desire running rampant through both of them, and he moaned something that sounded an awful lot like her first name, but before her mind could catch up, his lips were on hers.

Felicity groaned, wrapping her arms around him, pulling herself closer as she opened for him and he took the invitation with a confidence that left her breathless. His tongue swept into her mouth, tangling with hers as he gripped her knee painfully, lifting her even higher. His arm around her back tightened and he picked her up, walking them back just enough to push her up against the wall. The wine bottle banged against the plaster with a dull thud, but it barely registered.

It took her all of eight seconds for her to whimper in frustration - too many clothes, too many obstacles - before Felicity pulled back with a needy whine, pushing him back at the same time.

Felicity let her purse drop, her hands flying to unbutton her jacket. He stepped back a few paces, his darkening eyes never leaving hers until he couldn’t help himself, until they dropped to watch her undress. Usually she took the time, wanting to see the way his lips parted, how his cheeks grew rosy with need, how his fingers twitched like he wanted to be the one undressing her but always holding himself back, but she didn’t have the patience, not right then.

She needed him, inside her, around her, and she didn’t want to wait.

Felicity tossed her jacket away, kicking her shoes off before tugging her shirt over her head. It dropped to the ground in a messy pile, quickly followed by her pants, leaving her completely bare before his eyes.

He choked out his next breath, his grip on the wine bottle tightening, his eyes taking her in in the dull light in his apartment. The clouds outside shifted, letting a shaft of moonlight shine through the picture windows in his living room, making her pale skin glow.

“God,” Oliver whispered, stepping towards her, crowding her again. “You are so damn beautiful.”

Felicity’s heart skipped a beat. She bit her lip, a blush warming her but before she could say anything, he cupped her cheek, his lips finding hers again. The kiss stayed chaste and easy for a second before it turned into more, melting into something hotter, needier. He held her tighter, slipping his hand into her hair to angle her head, deepening the kiss. Felicity shuddered, giving herself over to him just as easily as he had her.

She slipped her hands up under his shirt, dragging her nails over his abs. He took his cue, tugging it up and off, his lips finding hers again… but the bottle got in the way.

Oliver cursed, struggling to yank his shirt off his hand, and she chuckled, taking the wine.

He didn’t waste a second. As his shirt fell to the floor, Oliver cupped her face with both hands, his lips covering hers again.

As she slipped her fingers into the band of his pants, their connection never faltered. He tasted as much of her as he could, taking his time exploring her mouth.

She pulled him back towards his bedroom, not having to look to know where she was going. When her feet touched carpet, telling her they were in his room, Oliver’s hands moved, his palms grazed over her ribs, his thumbs brushing along the sides of her breasts, moving until he reached her hips.

His fingers gripped her tight, yanking her closer, and Felicity moaned.

Oliver’s hands slipped around to her ass and picked her up, eliciting a shocked little sound from her, his feet already moving towards the bed. She held onto him, just as tightly as he held onto her, his arm slipping under her ass, the other sliding up her back. His fingers caressed her spine, up and down, drifting over the sensitive skin right above her ass.

Felicity gasped a rough, “Oh…!”, her back arching in response, pressing her wet sex right against his chest.

His knees hit the mattress and he set her down, crawling on top of her.

The wine bottle finally slipped from her fingers as she spread her legs, opening them for him. Oliver didn’t pause for a second to care that she was completely naked before him, or that he was still wearing pants. He sucked her bottom lip between his just as he pressed his hard bulge right against her core.

“Oh god,” Felicity whimpered, the hard seam of his pants sliding right across her soaking wet clit. It spread her nether lips, brushing her sensitive entrance, making her sex clench with the need to feel him in her. He rotated his hips, pressing harder, and she cried out, her hands falling to his naked waist. She gripped him tight, pulling him into her with each tiny thrust, wrapping her legs around him, arching her hips to meet him. “ _Yes_ …”

Felicity’s head fell back, her eyes slipping shut, pleasure suffusing every inch of her.

Oliver moved, rubbing her clit over and over, the mattress shaking from the effort as he concentrated on her.

But it wasn’t enough, she wanted more. She _needed_ more. Every inch of her burned for more, for a release, for a respite only he could give her. She dug her nails into his back, her palms aching to wrap around him, to guide him into her. Felicity slipped her hand around and under the band of his pants, but even that wasn’t enough.

She needed _more_.

“Oliver,” Felicity moaned, her hands finding the front of his pants. He didn’t stop thrusting against her, rubbing her right where she needed him. Her fingers started shaking as she unbuttoned his pants, her hips surging up to meet his. The second she had them undone, Felicity pushed her hand into his pants, forcing him to stop when she found his cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

Felicity gripped him tightly, pulling her feet up to shove his pants down his hips. She pulled him free, running her fingers down his length, her nails drifting over his balls.

“God, Felicity,” he whispered, his voice quaking. “Oh god…”

_More._

The instant his pants were out of the way, Felicity wound her legs around him, wrapping her arms across his back, and she pulled him down on top of her. He barely kept himself from crushing her as his cock slipped through her wetness, right over her clit. They both moaned. One of his hands found purchase in her hair, fisting the strands tightly, his other sliding down her side to pull her leg up even higher, spreading her more.

God, he felt good, so good.

She let out a quiet sob of pleasure, her voice growing louder as he moved, rubbing his length against her.

“Oliver,” she gasped, her voice cracking.

He clenched her hair tighter, angling her head up. Oliver buried his face against her throat, his lips drifting over her collarbone and up to her shoulder, his stubble scratching deliciously, sending little sparks of pain that mixed so deliciously with the pleasure of his hard cock rubbing her… _harder_ …

“Please…”

He shuddered, his muscles flexing under her touch.

“Oliver,” she managed again, just as he pushed his face up the column of her throat, his lips finding hers.

Felicity moaned, returning his kiss with equal ardor, whimpering when he kissed her harder. She gave him just as much as he gave her, pushing her hands down his back to his pants where they still hung on his hips. Felicity gripped them, pushing them down, his cock still sliding between them, making them both shiver.

They pulled apart at the same time, both gasping for air.

She gripped his ass, pushing him closer as she slid her other into his hair, whispering, “I need you, Oliver. Please, I need you inside me.”

He groaned, his hips pulling back without provocation, the head of his cock slipping over her clit, finding her soaking entrance.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she gasped, cradling him closer.

He slipped inside her, for just a second, making them both groan \- it felt so good, so, so good, she never wanted him to stop…

“Don’t stop, don’t stop…”

Oliver pushed into her more, _deeper_ , and she cried out his name. Her inner walls clenched around him, trying to pull him in more… and for a quick moment, he did. Oliver nearly thrust into her all the way, and it was _pure bliss_ as he slid into her, filling her, spreading her…

“Felicity,” he whimpered, her name ending in a quiet hiss. “God, you feel… so good…”

“ _Oliver_ …”

He moved deeper.

She was so full, he was filling her so completely, so wonderfully…

“Don’t stop…”

And then suddenly he stiffened, and then he was pulling back.

He grunted harshly, growling, “Fuck,” before he was up and off the bed, wrenching himself out of her arms.

“Wait, wait,” Felicity gasped, pushing herself up, trying to catch her breath. “Where’re you going?”

“Condom,” he said, shoving his pants off all the way. They hit the ground with a soft thud and he yanked the drawer of his nightstand open, fishing out a condom.

Felicity blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Some part of her knew what he was doing, that he was getting the one thing they never, ever let _not_ happen between them, that she would definitely regret it if they didn’t wear it. She was more than covered in the birth control department, but condoms were still the one thing they both required, the one thing they didn’t let slide, _the one thing_ …

She _knew_ that, some part of her knew that, but another part - the larger part - _didn’t care_.

Her body ached to feel him inside her, just like she had been, filling her.

It’d felt so good, _he’d_ felt so good… and he was taking too long.

As he tore open the stupid package, rolling the condom on himself, she sat up, reaching for him. His cock was wet - from her - and it made her mouth water. Need made every movement painful as she grabbed his arm, pulling him back to her with a breathy, “Oliver, please… please…”

The instant he was sheathed, he spun back to her, pushing her back on the bed. Oliver gripped her hips, shoving her up the mattress, narrowly missing the bottle of wine buried in the pillows as he blanketed her body with his again. He barely gave her a second to hold onto him before he had her legs spread open, before the head of his cock was slipping through her wetness again, and in the next instant, he buried himself deep inside her with one smooth thrust.

Felicity shouted as he filled her to the hilt.

Oliver wrapped her up in his arms, shoving his hands underneath her, pulling her flush against him. He pressed his face into her neck, his hot pants a stark contrast against the chilly air as he pulled out and thrust into her, even harder, the sound of their skin smacking together echoing through the room.

The next one was even harder, sending pain and pleasure radiating through her equally.

Felicity held onto him as tightly as she could, not feeling anything but his hands sliding down to her ass, gripping her tight as he aided her thrusts, pushing her up harder to meet him.

Oliver fucked her, his thrusts becoming harder, less controlled, and she held on, unable to do anything but _feel_ as he took her, seeking his own pleasure while building hers. He pushed her ass up higher, at the perfect angle so her clit rubbed right against the rough hair on his pubic bone, sending molten heat rushing through her veins that had her mindlessly moving against him, wanting more, needing more.

She didn’t hear her cries growing louder, sharper, or his own muffled cries where his mouth was pressed against her neck.

The only thing she heard was the smack of his hips against hers, his harsh breathing, the rush of blood in her ears.

It was just him, and the pleasure he was giving her, over and over… harder… faster…

Oliver pounded into her, making the bed rock underneath them. He gripped her tighter, his fingers digging into her so hard it stung, right on the heels of the white hot pleasure starting to coil tighter and tighter deep inside her. It was almost too much and she was powerless to do anything but hold on as he thrust into her, his cries coming from deep in his chest, echoing her own.

He suddenly changed his grip, flattening his hands, pushing her up higher, and it sent the vibrations straight to her clit. Felicity cried out as he grazed over it once, twice, each thrust growing harder and harder, losing all rhythm, his cries drowning out everything as he took  her, shouting his pleasure…

Oliver slid over her tender clit once more, and it sent her over the edge.

Felicity came with a harsh shout, her back bowing, her head digging into the mattress as she bucked up against him, her orgasm shooting through her with a heat that seared her nerves. Pleasure burst deep inside, and she felt it in the tips of her fingers and the soles of her feet, her entire body undulating as he chased his own release, each thrust prolonging hers until her cries became soundless, until there was nothing left but _feeling_.

She felt him slam into her with one final thrust, felt his body jerking against hers as he finally came. His gasps of pleasure had his entire body shaking as he emptied himself into her, his hands gripping her so tightly it burned…

He pushed himself up, trying to push himself as deep as he could into her, until he was done, until he couldn’t do anything but collapse.

Oliver dropped on top of her, panting wildly, his heart racing against hers, highlighting the steady rush of blood through her veins. Her sex throbbed - _ached_ \- and he made it worse when his hips still moved, still rotated slightly.

It lasted an eternity and two seconds all at the same time.

She had her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her feet still hooked around him, not wanting him to move for anything in the entire world, every bit of her still floating… but then he started getting too heavy.

Felicity whimpered, shifting, and Oliver pushed himself up off her, letting her take a deep breath. The movement had her inner walls clenching, pulling him deep into her and he whimpered an intelligible, “Fuck,” his hips surging forward of their own volition, making her gasp when he rubbed against her sensitive flesh.

She wasn’t sure how it happened or when he moved, but he finally pulled out of her, leaving a wet trail of her juices in his path, his half-erect cock slipping over her thigh. Oliver moved just enough to roll the condom off. He tossed it over the side of the bed before laying back down, half on top of her, wrapping his arms around her.

His breath danced over her shoulder, across her collarbone, making her shiver, her nipples hardening again.

After a few minutes, she turned her head slightly, not bothering to open her eyes.

“You didn’t drink your congratulations wine,” she whispered, the words slurring together with bone-deep contentment.

Oliver grunted, shifting. The movement had said bottle of wine rolling from its place in the pillows, bumping against his arm. He didn’t bother moving it, and neither did she. Later, that was for later, because right now she was too tired to open her eyes, much less get up and do anything.

“You’re all the congratulations I need,” he murmured as he drifted off to sleep.

His words made her pause, made her heart jump - he sounded out of it, half-asleep, like he didn’t know what the hell he was saying.

Felicity pushed it down.

“That’s good then,” she replied, her body giving into sleep.

It had been a day of victory, and it was probably the adrenaline of a huge success that had carried her through the rest of the day, not letting her realize just how many hours everyone in the department had put in to get this thing done. She could sleep now, they both could… and it seemed that was exactly what they were going to do.

“Good?” he breathed as he faded.

“Because that wine cost way too much and I want it for myself,” she finished.

He managed an amused huff in response.

Oliver took a deep breath and as he let it out, every muscle in his body relaxed completely.

Felicity followed suit, cuddling closer to him. In a few hours she’d be shoving him off her - there was nothing relaxing in the least about his heat combined with the heat of the day still lingering outside - but that was later, because right now…

_Sleep._

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.
> 
> I've gotten a lot of requests for their first few weeks together. I've started putting that time together and it's _dark_. I need to decide how dark to take it, but we'll start diving into it soon! (... aka I hope you enjoy these softer moments between them.)


	9. 11:56 p.m. Verdant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She dances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Reminder A/N:** This is not a story about love. This is a story that ends in love, but it definitely does not start that way. The first few weeks between Oliver and Felicity in this fic are dark, they are not pretty. **It's very close to dubious consent** , so please take this as your warning. The lines get blurry.
> 
> Please check out this post, if you wish: [**Four Walls & Dubcon**](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/142209968974/four-walls-dubcon)
> 
> **For those who choose not to read this chapter, please skip to the bottom for a quick summary so you don't miss anything!**
> 
> Reminder: This story is being told out of order! You can now view the **[Four Walls Timeline](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/fourwalls)** , listing the fics as they happen chronologically for Oliver and Felicity.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, here’s my [Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).

The music flowed around her, filling the spaces between her and the other moving bodies in the sea of people on the dancefloor. The club was past capacity, as it always was on Saturdays, and for the first time in a very long time, Felicity didn’t mind it. No, she _craved_ it, she craved the escape it promised her, the escape she desperately needed.

She could still feel him, feel his hands on her, his fingers holding her so tightly it stung… his beard scraping her mouth, making her lips raw where he kissed her so hard it burned… the sharp edge of his desk when he’d pushed her back, the cool wood against her heated legs when he’d lifted her onto it.

The sounds echoed in her head, an ugly symphony of noises the music wasn’t nearly loud enough to drown out… his gasps mixing with her moans, the sharp rip of his zipper when she’d yanked his pants open, the crash of papers and his lamp falling to the ground.

She could still _taste_ him.

Felicity squeezed her eyes shut, pushing it down, but that did nothing to stop her stomach from twisting or her chest from tightening to the point she couldn’t breathe. Her heart hadn’t stopped racing, not since she’d realized what she’d done, what she’d let him do, what she’d _wanted_ him to do.

To her.

 _With_ her.

A spiraling wave of nausea sliced through her. It was filled with regret, fear, dread… and _excitement_. Excitement that he’d attacked her just as readily, that he’d kissed her with just as much desperation, that he’d nearly ripped her skirt off in his haste to touch her, to feel her just as bad as she wanted him.

_No._

Felicity gritted her teeth, shaking her head, ignoring her trembling lips and the shiver that fell down her spine, but it only highlighted the swath of heat filling her as she remembered his choked, _“God, Smoak,”_ when she’d gripped his length, when she’d delighted in the way his knees nearly buckled, how he fell against her as she twisted her wrist before his lips found hers, the kiss so demanding it hurt.

_… he picked her up, slamming her on his desk. It sent a rush of need crashing through her as she opened her legs in time for him to step between them and push her back…_

“Stop,” Felicity whispered, shaking her head, trying to force the memory back down.

_… he pulled her to the edge of the desk, wrenching her skirt around her thighs so tightly she cried out. It only fueled him, his movements rough and uneven - uncaring - and the mixture of anticipation and fear that he wasn’t being gentle with her made her gasp, “Don’t,” as she dug fingernails into his neck. Oliver jerked back in pain, growling her name before pushing her arms over her head, yanking her against his chest…_

Felicity groaned, dragging her hands through her hair, pulling on the strands until it was too much.

The hot air was suffocating, her skin was damp with sweat, and the music was _loud_ , pounding out a beat that she felt in her bones.

She danced, because she didn’t want to think about, she didn’t want to remember it… she didn’t want to remember that she’d come home last night smelling like his cologne and a heady blend of _them_ , that her lipstick had been smudged, her hair mussed from his hands, the skin around her mouth covered in red irritated marks from his stubble, from the force of his kisses… from the force of hers when she’d kissed him back just as viciously. She didn’t want to think about the dark red marks on her hips where he’d gripped her, where his fingers had dug in.

_“Oliver… oh god, like that, like that, yes… yes…”_

Felicity clenched her jaw.

_No._

She’d lost Andi a while ago.

 _“Hey, are you okay? You look like something’s really fucking with you”_   

_“I’m fine. Just… work stuff.”_

Felicity thought about finding her, but the idea of stopping, of no longer letting something outside her take control made her skin crawl. The second she stopped dancing, she’d start thinking again, and the length of time it’d take her to get to the bar and back was too long.

_… the quiet tear of the condom wrapper echoed the anticipation making her tremble as he pushed her back, his thumb brushing over her pulse point with too much pressure, her chest tightening as he spread her legs. His hand dipped between them, slipping through her wet folds and she nearly came off the desk at how sensitive she already was, how tender. His clenched jaw was the only indication he liked it. Oliver gripped himself, finding her wet entrance. Felicity’s eyes slipped shut, her hands gripping the edge of his desk. He didn’t waste a second. He thrust into her to the hilt, making her yelp as he filled her without warning, spreading her open. The force of his thrust shoved her up his desk, sending more files and papers crashing to the floor…_

She gritted her teeth, shaking her head.

_No._

She didn’t want to think about what she’d let him do, what she’d _wanted_ him to do, what he’d made her feel, and _god_ , what would happen on Monday when she had to see him again. She didn’t want to think about what’d happened that morning when she’d woken up, his taste still on her tongue, her thoughts still in her dreams where she’d felt him all over again.

Felicity had woken in a haze of need that’d had her pushing her hand between her legs, only fully waking when she felt how sore she was. From _him._

No, she was done thinking.

She had no idea how much time passed. She barely paid attention to the songs when they changed, or the variance in the people moving around her as they responded to the new beats. The more she danced, the easier it was to let her mind go, to _forget_. She let the music flow through her, let it relax her, let her move without having to think. Her hands moved of their own volition, rising in the air before falling back down, tracing the lines of her body, nudging people away when they came up behind her. It started to get too hot, her clothes sticking to her, her hair dampening at the edges, but she didn’t stop.

A strange sense of relief slowly started to sweep through her, and the weight of her heavy thoughts lifted, letting her breathe…

Until she felt eyes on her.

The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose, a shiver falling down her spine when she recognized the sensation, the low burn in the center of her back. But before she could do anything, before she could turn and find them, a pair of hands landed on her hips.

Felicity froze.

Her heart barely stuttered as they ghosted over her, so light she barely felt them but she still felt them, just as surely as she felt the ice flooding her veins because she _knew_ …

She didn’t have to look to know who it was touching her because it’d been barely twenty-four hours since she’d felt those exact hands gripping her just like that and for a split second, Felicity didn’t do anything.

The music was still there, it was still lulling her, and for that split second, she let herself lean back, melt against him, their bodies naturally moving as one. Her head fell back on his shoulder, feeling a niggle of delight in the familiarity of his touch as she twisted her hips again his. He took complete advantage, flattening his hands over her stomach, pressing her closer. Her skirt was so thin, way too thin, and she felt the heavy bulge in his jeans, the hard seam pressing right against her ass. He pulled her flush against him…

And then it hit her, and it was like coming out of a fog.

Felicity’s stomach dropped.

 _No_.

He pressed his face to the back of her neck, his stubble skating over the sensitive skin at the top of her spine, his lips brushing over her… and then one of his hands slid lower, sending a rush of panic flooding her system.

“No,” she whispered, the sharp stab of trepidation taking her breath away. It was quickly followed by an eagerness that had her sex clenching with a need she didn’t want.

Felicity gripped his hand as hard as she could, stopping him.

“Get off me,” she whispered. She pulled on his fingers, but he didn’t relent. If anything he just tugged her closer. Felicity gritted her teeth, turning with a harsh, “Oliver,” but he just took advantage of it, moving before she could blink. He kept one hand pressed to her stomach while the other snaked up and across her chest, effectively locking her in his embrace. “ _Oliver._ ”

“Shh…” he breathed, pulling her closer, shoving his face into the side of her neck.

An ugly shiver danced down her spine at the simple command in his voice, her eyes slipping shut.

She _liked_ it.

_No._

Felicity jerked away from him, but he slid his arm further around her, his large hand covering her ribs, his hand splayed over her abdomen tightening. His palms were hot, searing her through her thin shirt, making her shudder… in anger. In outrage. He was touching her like he had every right to, like what they’d done last night meant he could touch her however he wanted. _Do_ whatever he wanted.

“Stop.”

He ignored her, his hand moving just enough so his thumb brushed over her breast, right over her nipple. It instantly pebbled, and Felicity shivered, a soft whimper slipping past her lips as the same intense _need_ from the night before shot through her. He did it again, his nail flicking it, and this time the pleasure was laced with pain.

“No,” she gasped. “Get off me.” Felicity tried to twist in his arms again but he just tightened his hold on her, swaying in time with the music. “Oliver!”

“Quiet,” he hissed, his voice so low she barely caught it, but she did, and despite herself, her mouth snapped shut.

Oliver leaned over her - _loomed_ over her - digging his face into her neck. His nose pressed into her pulse point, _hard_ , making her jerk just as the hand on her abdomen pressed her closer. Felicity inhaled sharply when she felt his heavy hardness again. It was all the more potent because she knew exactly what he hid in his jeans, knew exactly what he felt like when he was buried deep inside her…  

Felicity tried to take a breath, but the air was too hot, everything was too hot. She tried to pull away again, but he held her easily.

Something cold and thin leaked into her stomach as she realized he wasn’t going to let her go.

It was something she’d felt before - _fear_ \- and it was something that always made her stop everything and run. She’d felt it before, when she’d been stalked, when Cooper had gotten out of prison and found her again. It was something that should’ve made her stomp on his foot, ram her elbow in his gut, yell out, do _something_ … but she didn’t feel any of that. It didn’t morph into the mind-numbing chill that usually took over her stomach, that spread through her at a frightening rate, that pushed her limbs into fight or flight.

Felicity knew, deep in her bones, that if she wanted him to let her go, he would. That wasn’t who he was, and she _knew_ that.

No, the thin, cold feeling making her stomach feel hot instead of cold, it wasn’t fear of _him_.

It was that she didn’t want him to stop.

Felicity’s insides twisted, and she closed her eyes, the quick burn of tears there and gone before she could appreciate it. She did not like this man. There was nothing she liked about him, from the way he held himself to how he conducted business, to the cavalier way he treated people. There were glimpses - there _used_ to be glimpses every now and then - of the person he might be someday, but then “Ollie” always came roaring out like a slap to the face, sowing her dislike of him even deeper.

She didn’t _like_ him… and yet every inch of her craved his touch like she’d fall apart if he didn’t keep going.

Felicity gritted her teeth, digging her nails into his hand.

She pushed him closer, pressing his fingers down until they grazed the top of her pubic bone.

“Smoak…”

Oliver dug his fingers in, making her gasp.

“You left,” he said, his voice low. It was hard, unforgiving… _angry._ Felicity shuddered against the overwhelming urge to shrink under the power in those two words. Strength radiated through him, filling every inch of him as he held her. He was an unmovable force at her back, tame but wild at the same time.

She had no idea what he was doing, what he was going to do, and worse, what _she_ was going to do.

Oliver shifted closer, crowding her, digging his chin into her shoulder. His stubble were sharp little knives and she cringed, trying to get away, but he didn’t let her get far. He held her tighter, curling around her, purposefully pushing his face into her as he whispered, “Did you just need a quick fuck?”

 _That_ pissed her off.

Felicity turned her face towards him so he would hear her, matching her tone to his, “There was no reason to stick around.”

He growled under his breath - she didn’t _hear_ it, she _felt_ it, deep in his chest where he was plastered to her back - and he held her even tighter, so hard it hurt. His jaw clenched where his face was pressed against her and she angled her head away… just as her body yearned towards his.

What was she _doing_?

He ignored her.

“You fucked your boss last night, Felicity…”

Shame and regret and _need_ burned through her, lacing itself through her system, leaving her hot and agitated.

_… he leaned over her, putting pressure on her fingers where she brazenly rubbed her clit. His added weight as he pulled out, thrusting back into her so hard it shook the desk, had her crying out, her pleasure spiking…_

“You let me fuck you right on my desk,” he continued, his hand slipping further down. “Hard and fast…”

“Oliver,” she whispered, her voice cracking. She shook her head, gripping his hand so hard it made her nailbeds scream, but he ignored her completely. His hand moved as if she weren’t even there, slipping down her thigh until his fingers reached the edge of her skirt. He kept swaying to the music, forcing her to move with him, and… and she didn’t stop him when his fingers hooked under the soft material.

That same cold feeling filled her as he pulled her skirt up, her hand following his every move, higher and higher, exposing her to anyone who might want to look.

Felicity squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t bring herself to open them, to see if anyone was watching them, if anyone was paying attention… to see if the flashing lights overhead fell on them, spotlighting his hand between her legs, her skirt bunched up, her dark purple panties a stark contrast to her pale thighs…

A low burn in the pit of her stomach slowly expanded out, spreading through her, growing hotter with each second.

The air in the club was shockingly chilly against her heated skin, the skin he was exposing, and when Felicity shivered, it traveled straight to her core.

A low-pitched keen fell from her lips before she could stop it.

Oliver chuckled and she stiffened.

“I never knew you had it in you, Smoak,” he whispered, his lips still pressed to her ear. His fingers caressed her thigh, sending goosebumps skating over her skin. His hand drifted closer to her sex, his arms still holding her flush against him. They were still dancing, still moving, and he was _hard_. His fingertips grazed over the front of her panties. “You’re always so put-together… never a hair out of place, no lipstick smudges…”

Felicity’s heart was racing so fast it was making her faint and she turned to tell him off but the arm banded around her chest suddenly slid up so he was cupping her throat, pinning her to him.

“At least until I had you sprawled out on my desk,” he said, “begging for me to fuck you harder.”

_“… don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop… Oliver…”_

“ _No_ ,” Felicity growled, trying to pry his hand away from her throat but he didn’t budge. “Stop.”

“You don’t want me to stop,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

Felicity turned, her voice low and rough. “Yes. I do.”

His finger circled over her wet panties, barely touching her except for the few gyrations of their hips that pushed her closer. His tongue snuck out, tracing the shell of her ear and when his next breath danced over the wet skin, it took her breath away.

“No,” he whispered with a knowing grin, “you don’t.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

Oliver hummed, but she barely heard him because the next second he was sliding his finger down her center, hard enough to leave a trail of fire in his path. Felicity whimpered, and he slid it back up, brushing over her clit through the material, making her hips jerk.

“I bet I know a few things,” he said.

Oliver pushed his hand into her panties.

“No,” Felicity managed, her hand flying to cover his through the wet material - it was soaked - but she wasn’t fast enough.

His fingers slipped through her wetness, sliding all the way down, caressing the tender, sensitive flesh. He went all the way past her clenching entrance, spreading her arousal everywhere until his fingers were drenched. Felicity’s breath stuttered as she fought for equilibrium, her hand sliding up his wrist, leaving a trail of wetness over his skin.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, his voice growing deep with his own desire, and it resonated deep inside her. He touched her clit and she whined his name, throwing her head back, melting against him, holding his wrist tighter. “What’ve you been thinking about?” He pressed a finger between her nether lips, a blunt nail scraping against her entrance. “Have you been thinking about last night?”

She whimpered.

“Tell me, Smoak.”

 _No_.

Felicity dug her nails into his hand as hard as she could and he grunted. Oliver suddenly cupped her sex, making her wince with a sharp, “Ow,” as he yanked her back, shoving his very hard bulge against her ass again. A flood of arousal soaked his fingers.

 _No_ , no, she didn’t want this, she didn’t want him.

“Have you been thinking about when I spread those gorgeous legs, when I ripped your panties off…” he asked breathlessly, and she wondered if it was her imagination when she felt him growing harder. He moved his hand, right against her clit and her knees almost gave out. “You liked having my cock buried deep inside you, didn’t you… Did you wonder if was going to happen again?”

_Oh god._

“No,” she hissed.

“Liar.”

Felicity whimpered, a fresh rush of need sweeping through her because _yes_ , yes, that was exactly what she’d been thinking, and he knew, he fucking knew. Her sex clenched, her clit growing tighter, only getting worse the more his hand brushed over her.

But it wasn’t him, he wasn’t moving, it was _her_. She was practically riding his hand, seeking the friction he was denying her.

“Do you want me to call you into my office?” he asked. “Ask you to sit on my desk, to spread your legs for me…”

The thought of him sitting back in his chair while she lifted herself up on his desk, the very desk he’d thrown her up on, pulling her skirt up so she could spread her legs wide for him…

It was intoxicating.

Oliver grinned.

“I may not know a lot about you…” he whispered, his fingers moving in slow, _slow_ circles around her entrance, touching without really touching. “ _Yet_.” Her heart skipped a beat, and it only doubled when he pressed his face against hers, his cheek scraping over hers before he pressed his lips to her ear again and said, “But I do know that my hand down your panties, touching your tender little clit like this in public, is getting you so goddamn hot I could slide into you without…”

 _In public_.

The words were a slap to the face.

Humiliation washed through her.

_No._

Felicity spun, forcing his hand out of her panties, her skirt falling back into place as she wrenched his hand off her neck.

She could still feel his fingers on her, in her panties, _rubbing_ …

Oliver stared at her, his face dark with a look she’d never seen before, a look that had her core tightening with need, an ugly need that made her clench her teeth as chills fell down her spine.

“Go to hell,” she snapped, loud enough for everyone around them to hear before she turned, pushing her way through the crowd. She thought she felt his hand grabbing for her, but she yanked her arm back, shoving her way through dancing couples and groups, not stopping until she reached an open space, next to a pillar.

The room was spinning, and not because she was drunk.

She couldn’t _breathe_.

What was she doing, what had she been letting him do, what was _wrong_ with her?

The lights were flashing, obscuring her vision as she looked towards the bar, looking for Andi. She was there, somewhere - she glanced over the crowd, looking for the familiar blonde head of hair, one with a streak of purple.

She wasn’t there.

Felicity squeezed her eyes shut for a second, inhaling quickly.

She had to get out of there.

Felicity moved towards the exit. The further away from _him_ she got, the better she felt. If she could just get outside, if she could just take a deep breath of fresh, cold air, maybe it’d erase the last few minutes, it’d erase the need still crackling along the surface of her skin, making her feel tight and itchy, emphasizing the wetness between her legs, how her thighs slid together.

She didn’t make it.

A group of people suddenly broke away from a few tables and headed towards the dancefloor, cutting her off.

Felicity didn’t get a chance to glare, or to huff in annoyance, or to even smile when one of them said, “Oh, sorry, excuse me,” because one second she was alone, and the next she wasn’t.

A strong arm slid around her waist, his hand gripping her hip tightly, pulling her flush against his hard body forcefully.

Felicity instantly twisted, shoving her elbow into her ribs with a vicious, “Get off me,” but he didn’t give her any room for leverage or a second to wonder why she didn’t just _yell_ as he pulled her away from the crowd and into a dark corner. It was shockingly dark, an assault in and of itself on her eyes, but not dark enough for her to not notice the large unmarked door.

Panic set in.

“No,” Felicity said, tugging away from him - it’d be a cold day in _hell_ when she went into any goddamn closet with _him_ \- but Oliver didn’t go near it.

Oliver shoved her up against the opposite wall with a dark, “I’m not locking you in a fucking closet,” before he pressed his body against hers, his hands sliding up her sides possessively, his thick erection pressing into her stomach.

“No, stop,” Felicity gasped, her head falling back, hitting the wall with a painful thud. He took complete advantage, his lips finding her pulse point. “Oliver… don’t…”

Felicity melted as sensation overwhelmed her.

And then reality hit her all over again and she pushed him back.

Oliver barely budged, and she _liked_ it. She liked it, and that terrified her.

“You’re drunk,” she whispered, shaking her head. It was the only explanation, the only one, because last night had been a fluke, an accident, nothing more, something that was never going to happen again… never…

Felicity gasped, arching into him and he showed his appreciation by gripping her tighter, hauling her closer.

“No,” Oliver replied, his voice low… too low. They were far away from the rest of the people in the crowd. She didn’t know where they were. The music was still loud, but it more of an afterthought, barely there. It was just them. “And neither are you… because if you were, I’d have my cock buried so deep in you right now, you’d-”

Anger slammed into her chest.

“Fuck you,” she snapped, shoving on him again, trying to push him back but he overpowered her, pushing her further up the wall, high enough that she felt his hardness pressing right against her center.

He groaned.

It happened in the blink of an eye.

Oliver leaned down, hooking her knee, yanking her leg up, spreading her as his other hand slid into her hair, making a tight, _tight_ fist. He pulled her head back in an act of pure domination that both had her wanting to slap him and melt under his command. He tilted her head back, hooking her leg over his hip as he rotated just enough to make her gasp. His breathing was just as ragged as hers, his grip on her tightening, and she… she wanted _more_.

No, not with him, she didn’t want this with him.

That didn’t stop her hands from gripping his shoulder tightly, anchoring herself to him.

Felicity let out a choked moan, the sound mixed in with a sob of surrender.

“I want you, Felicity,” he whispered, his lips brushing over hers, and for the first time she could hear how ragged his voice was… how much she affected him. “I want you.”

_Oh god._

He dropped her knee abruptly and slipped his hand between her thighs, finding her panties. Felicity moaned. She tried to arch her back to get closer but his grip in her hair was too tight, keeping her still. He pushed his fingers into her panties, sliding the back of them over her sensitive sex.

Everything around her fell away except for him.

“Oliver… please…”

“I can’t believe how much… how much I want…” The fingers in her hair tightened and she gasped in a blinding rush of pain that only stoked the fire deep inside her, made her want _more_. His harsh breathing danced over her face, so intimate it was startling as he slid his fingers up her soaking wet slit. Felicity jerked off the wall, right against him and he gave her a choked, “God…”

A sharp shiver fell down her spine.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed.

Felicity’s eyes shot open.

_What?_

She automatically opened her mouth to tell him, _‘No,’_ to tell him to stop, to do what he was asking. It was on the tip of her tongue, she could taste it, but where it’d slipped out so naturally a few seconds ago, now… now, knowing that he would actually stop if she said it, she _couldn’t_.

She didn’t want to, she didn’t want him to stop - she wanted _more_.

No, no she… she _didn’t._

Felicity took a shaky breath, digging her nails into him.

Oliver pulled back to look at her.

The hall was dark, way too dark to see anything, but she saw him, crystal clear. He was looking at her like he wanted to throw her up against the wall and fuck her right there, without apology, without waiting… but he _was_ waiting. For her. He would stop if she asked him to… and it only made her angry. He wasn’t supposed to wait, he was supposed to take, he wasn’t supposed to make this about _her_ decision, because if she said yes, if she gave in… it’d all be on her. He’d been taking all night, just like he’d taken last night, and if he’d just shoved his pants down now and did whatever he wanted, if he just… _took_ , then she would know that this was wrong, so wrong.

She would _know_ this was wrong and she wouldn’t want him like this, she _wouldn’t_.

But now… 

Oliver grunted, hooking his fingers in the front of her soaked panties, tugging the material so it dug into her ass as he snapped, “Tell me to fucking stop, Felicity.”

The sound of her first name on his lips was the final straw.

She snapped.

Felicity pushed her hands into his hair and gripped thick handfuls into tight fists, making him curse as she yanked his face to hers.

Their lips crashed together with stinging force. She instantly opened for him, lifting her leg higher, pulling him closer just as much as she pushed herself into him and he didn’t waste a second. He growled deep in his chest, the sound vibrating into her as he rammed her back against the wall.

Her cry of pain was muffled against his lips and he gripped her hair tighter, sending searing pain down her spine.

Oliver shoved her panties out of the way, cupping her sex, using his grip to pull her up in a bruising move that hurt way more than she’d been prepared for before he thrust two fingers deep inside her.

Felicity broke away with a desperate, “Oh god!” It echoed in the tiny hallway as he shoved his palm against her clit, his body nailing hers to the wall, his fingers sliding out and back in, as deep as he could. She tried to bow her head, to revel in the feel of his hand between her legs, but his fist in her hair stopped her, making her yelp.

It should have made the pleasure stop, it should have told her exactly what she’d just given into, but it didn’t. It amplified it in a way she’d never felt before and pleasure scorched through her veins.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she whimpered, gripping him tighter. “Don’t stop…”

Oliver’s hand slipped down to grip her neck in a possessive move that told her he was controlling every second of this, that he was holding her how he wanted, moving her how he wanted.

“Fuck,” Oliver whispered harshly, his grip on her neck tightening so hard it hurt, but she didn’t care, she didn’t care as long as he didn’t stop, as long as his fingers kept moving inside her, his palm kept sliding against her clit, over and over… “Felicity… say it.”

She barely heard him as she rode his hand.

“ _Felicity_ ,” he breathed, dragging her name out, pushing his fingers deep into her and stopping. She cried out - she was so close, so close, _more, more, more_ \- but he didn’t let her move. “Say it, say my name.”

“What… but… Oliver.” He moved his hand just enough and she said it again, earning another move. She quickly caught on as she whispered his name again, and again, and each time he moved his hand, rubbing her clit. “Yes, yes, yes… _please_.”

“What do you want?” he asked, his fingers sliding up her neck to turn her face to his. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

She was mindless with want, with need, too far gone to appreciate how pivotal this moment was, how much she was giving him.

“ _Tell me_ ,” he said.

“Fuck me,” Felicity whispered, gripping his hair in turn, pulling him closer. “Please… I want you to fuck me, Oliver…” He moaned, inhaling sharply and he pulled his hand out and thrust his fingers back into her. Felicity cried out, her back bowing. “Yes, like that, like that… don’t stop! Oliver, _please_ … Please!”

Oliver’s mouth slanted over hers, silencing the rest of her cries, ravaging her with a brutal kiss.

He was relentless. He finger-fucked her where he had her pinned to the wall, fast and hard, sending her soaring. Pleasure assaulted every inch of her, from the harsh grip of his hand on the back of her neck to his beard scratching at her mouth, her cheeks, her chin, his legs opening just enough to spread her more, keeping her exposed as his hand moved, fucking her…

Felicity cried out against his lips, drowning in him, in what he was doing to her.

He pulled back just enough for her to catch a breath - the burn for oxygen was getting lost in _him_ , in everything he was doing as he pushed her higher, higher…

Felicity lost all sense of time and place, leaving nothing but _this_ second, this second where it was just him. His soft hair in her hands, his harsh, wet pants against her cheek, his forehead digging into hers, her hard nipples scraping against her bra, her legs spread open - _for him_.

It was too much, too fast, and she felt her release peaking before she knew what was happening. It was a white hot burn that started deep in her core, searing through her in the blink of an eye, leaving a trail of fire along the edge of her nerves, making her skin tingle, her palms burn, pricks of pain searing the soles of her feet…

“Oh god!” she keened, grinding down, meeting his thrusts, needing more friction, needing _more_ … “Oh god, oh god… _Oliver!_ ”

_Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop…_

He added a third finger, spreading her, making her yelp and then he added a fourth, shoving them inside her as deep as he could go… and it _hurt_. She was sore, and no amount of wetness or arousal could prepare her for the way his fingers felt filling her, spreading her open like that.

Felicity stiffened, an agonized cry slipping from her lips and he _knew_ , somehow he knew. On his next thrust, Oliver buried three in her again and he kept them inside her, rotating his palm against her clit, pushing her right back to the edge. 

She ground down on him mindlessly, seeking that perfect release, that pleasure she knew was waiting for her, that only he could give her. She was so close, so close… but she needed _more_ , she needed…

Oliver suddenly leaned down, his grip on her neck tightening to keep her still. He found her hard nipple through her shirt and bra and he wrapped his lips around it, sucking hard through the material, digging his teeth into her breast and it sent her over.

“Aahhh… _god_ , yes… yes…!”

Felicity came with a soundless shout, the orgasm exploding deep inside, shooting through every inch of her. Her back arched, her hips thrusting against him without any rhythm, without a single thought but riding the pleasure he was giving her, every single sense focused on his hand buried in her. It lasted forever and a second all at the same time, and she felt like she was floating just as much as she was falling back to earth way too fast.

Her limbs were too heavy, her mind reeling - _foggy_ , everything was foggy. Her heart pounded in her ears, her throat burning as she fought for air…

They were wrapped around each other, breathing each other’s air. His fingers were still inside her, her inner walls sucking him in deeper with each tiny aftershock.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t _think._

Oliver suddenly pulled his hand out of her, nearly taking her panties with him.

She smelled herself first, the distinct smell of her arousal before he gripped her chin with his wet fingers, turning her face to his.

His kiss was bruising, his hold on her tight and unforgiving as he angled her head to deepen it.

Felicity responded without a second thought, giving back just as much as he gave her, pushing herself closer. She gripped his suit jacket, pulling on it almost hard enough to tear.

It was a battle for dominance, each giving before the other pushed back just as hard, sometimes even harder…

The sound of his zipper pulled her back to reality.

It hit her as if he’d slapped her and she jerked back, her head hitting the wall, pain exploding in her skull.

The music came back, reminding her where they were… and who she was with, and what they’d just been doing.

What they were about to do.

“Oh god,” she gasped, letting him go abruptly. That cold feeling was back with a vengeance, coating her from the inside out. What was she _doing_? Her lips ached - no, they _burned_ , like his had been covered in acid - and blood rushed through her ears, making her head race.

She was distinctly aware of the evidence of her orgasm all over her thighs, the orgasm he’d given her.

Shame swamped her so hard and fast her knees nearly gave out.

What was she doing?

Oliver moved in again, misreading her reaction.

Felicity pushed him back with enough force to make him stumble, his back slamming into the closet door.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, his eyes wide, but still dark with arousal, an arousal that spoke to her very foundations, one she felt the distinct urge to respond to…

Until she saw his pants were undone, his boxers barely hiding his very thick erection.

A few seconds ago the thought of him inside her had made her weak with pleasure, so much so she would have dropped right then and there and sucked him off.

But now… now she only wanted to run.

Oliver moved for her again, his hands finding her waist, pushing her back against the wall as he said, “Just-”

“No!” she gasped, cutting him, shaking her head numbly as she shoved him away. He fought her, just like before, but this time it only made her want to throw up, everything inside her revolting. “No!”

_She couldn’t do this._

“What are you…?” he managed before she wrenched herself out of his grasp, using the wall to hold her up.

_No._

“Felicity!”

She ran.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!
> 
> **Quick Summary:**
> 
> Felicity's POV. Felicity and Oliver slept together for the first time the night before - something they both wanted, something they both went for - but now she's drowning in regret and shame and anger, at both herself and Oliver, all on top of still feeling drawn to him in ways she doesn't want nor can explain. She's at Verdant, dancing, looking for an escape from the feelings weighing her down. Oliver is there as well, and he joins her. She doesn't want him there, not with her, but he doesn't leave, and he doesn't let her leave either. They play a dangerous game of give and take, Felicity walking a thin line between giving into something part of her rejects, while another part of her wants it - even _craves_ it - for reasons she can't fathom. After fighting it, she does give in, falling into a desire and need she doesn’t want to feel, all for a man she does not like. He gives her the pleasure she unwittingly needs, but before they go all the way, her conscience breaks through and she stops it before it can go any further.
> 
> I did a post called [**Four Walls & Dubcon**](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/142209968974/four-walls-dubcon) talking about my understanding of dubcon in fiction, as well as how it relates to Four Walls. If you're in reading in, it has links and it got some really great and interesting responses. Thank you!


	10. 8:02 p.m. Panzino Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity sneak away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you _so much_ for the incredible reaction to the last chapter. It got the reception I was anticipating, but it also got so much more than that. The support and honesty and love that you all sent my way blew me away. A few anons and messages actually left me in tears - in a good way! - while at the same time sparking some very interesting and informative conversations. (Please check out [this thread](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/142209968974/four-walls-dubcon) outlining my understanding of dubcon in fiction and the reblogs it got. Super interesting read.) Thank you, to everyone who responded, it means the world to me. (I'm also stupid behind on reviews, I will be responding!)
> 
> Along those lines, it has opened the door for the darker aspects of Oliver and Felicity. If things get to that level again in a future installment, I will absolutely note it, but you'll be seeing that theme a bit more now. This also means we'll be seeing a little more fallout from it in their future.
> 
>  **Reminder A/N:** This is a dark fic, and it explores dark themes. This isn't an Olicity that gets to a healthy Happily Ever After without stumbling approximately 232,009 times. 
> 
> Reminder: This story is being told out of order! You can now view the **[Four Walls Timeline](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/fourwalls)** , listing the fics as they happen chronologically for Oliver and Felicity.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, here’s my [Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Her hissed whisper chased them down the hall as Oliver pulled her behind him. The sound of her heels falling on the marble floor echoed off the walls, highlighting the rustle of their clothes as he glanced over his shoulder to check if anyone had seen them.

The coast was clear.

With a wicked grin, he laced their fingers together tighter, ignoring her pathetic attempts to pull away from him.

“ _Oliver_.”

“Shh.”

“We can’t do this-”

“Yes,” Oliver said, cutting her off as he stopped abruptly, turning back to her. “We can.”

“No.”

They’d rented out the largest ballroom in the hotel and the conjoining rooms, which meant the entire second floor was clear of any extra foot traffic whatsoever, save for them. He could still hear the music and the faint sound of conversation in the room at the other end, the hum of it still present, but it was also so very far away at the same time.

It was amazing.

Because he’d been about to break something in there.

Oliver pushed that thought down, instead focusing on her, on this moment. This was what he’d needed, five seconds away from it all, a moment alone with her. She made it all worth it and he’d do it all over again if she asked him to, but having to be so far away from her, especially with the people who’d come tonight, people he’d have been fine never seeing again.

It’d been torture.

But now they were blissfully alone. And they were still in the hallway, where anyone could see them. The knowledge that there was a crowd of people still so close, people who could come out at any minute and catch them, had his pulse racing, his skin tingling with awareness of her and only her. When he’d grabbed her in the ballroom, wrapping his arm around her and yanking her out a side door, it’d been with the singular intention of having a few minutes of peace, and maybe a kiss or two.

Now though, he felt a very familiar thrill, and he found himself wanting to chase it.

“You know, Smoak,” he said. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you want us to get caught.”

“I really do not,” Felicity said, her eyes narrowing. She pulled on her hand, trying to let him go, but he didn’t let her. “Especially because your mother’s in there, Oliver. Did you see the look on her face when she saw the centerpieces? Imagine what she’ll do if she finds us out here canoodling.” He chuckled at that - oh, they were going to do so much more than canoodling. “Now let me go.”

“No.”

“ _Yes_. What has gotten into you?”

He ignored her, pulling her closer, his lips caressing her cheek. She smelled like home, somewhere he desperately wanted to be just then. With her, only her. His fingers drew soft circles on the back of her hand where their fingers were still interlaced, his other hand slowly slipping up her back, his palm skating over the various cutouts in her dress. She shivered, a rush of goosebumps rising under his touch.

“You really want to go back in there?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice catching. He smirked. “I do.”

“Oh, but then…” He closed the space between them, his hand drifting to her front. “I’ll have to spend hours standing next to you… just like this… not being able to touch you how I want.”

Oliver’s fingers ghosted over her chest, slipping across the slope of her breast. She shivered, whispering his name in what was supposed to be a harsh reprimand but it came out the opposite. It urged him on.

“I want to touch you all the time. All the time. _Everywhere_. Just being near you drives me crazy.” His thumb slid over her nipple, his eyes never leaving hers as he made a slow circle around it before moving down. “And I know how much you hate waiting, Smoak.”

Her eyes darkened in a way he hadn’t seen in quite some time, her lips parting with a shaky breath. It’d been a long, _long_ while since they’d done anything like this, since they’d had the opportunity to.

“All I’ll be thinking about the entire time…” He pressed his hand against her taut stomach; he felt her skin growing warmer through her dress, her muscles tightening. He took his sweet time - she was so damned responsive, and he loved it. “… is how badly I want to push you up against a wall.” He moved lower, his fingers grazing her pubic bone. Her thighs clenched together and he grinned, ducking his head to whisper into her ear, “Because I won’t be able to take another minute not being inside you.”

Felicity whimpered.

“You really think I’ll be able to last?” She shivered at the sound of her name on his lips. “You really think _you’ll_ be able to last?”

She swayed towards him, her eyes slipping shut… but then she caught herself.

With a tiny shake of her head, she pushed his hand away, whispering, “Yes.”

“No.”

“ _Yes_.” Giving him a stern look, Felicity said, “You can touch me all you want later. In any _way_ you want. But right now…”

She turned away with every intention of heading back, but he didn’t let her. Oliver spun her back around, tugging her against him again.

“You’re telling me that your panties aren’t soaking wet right now, just thinking about it, Smoak?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Oliver…”

“The thought of someone seeing us…” Her pupils blew wide, eclipsing the beautiful hazel. He didn’t have to see it to know she wanted him, but still, her visceral reactions always had his own need ratcheting up, his body tightening. “The thought of someone catching us… that doesn’t have you turned on at all?”

Felicity breathed his name again, her voice cracking, shaking her head.

“No?” He had to bite the tip of his tongue to keep from smiling. “So if I touched you here…” He slipped his hand down to her dress, slipping it under. She slapped him away. “Felicity.”

“We agreed we weren’t going to do this,” she said, looking up at him from underneath her eyelashes, somehow both looking nubile and sinful as hell at the same time. “Not tonight.”

That almost had him pausing. But the very last thing in the world he wanted to do was go back into that room, and if he had to go back in there after this, after feeling her against him like this and getting nothing? And then having to watch her for the rest of the night, so close but so far away… talking and touching and…

He wouldn’t last.

“No,” Oliver whispered, his eyes dancing over her beautiful features, drinking her in. “ _You_ said we weren’t.”

“Which is like both of us saying it,” she replied.

He chuckled. “That’s not how that works.”

“Oliver…”

She tugged on his hand half-heartedly, but he didn’t budge. She bit her lip, her breathing quickening. She was crumbling, and he wanted to feel bad for pushing it, he really did, and some part of him was there, but the larger part of him didn’t care.

“Come on,” he whispered. “Please.”

Felicity stepped closer, making his heart skip a couple dozen beats. She dragged her finger down the center of his chest, looking up at him from under those gorgeous lashes of hers… and he knew if he wasn’t careful she was going to turn the tables on him so fast he’d be watching her walk away before he knew what was happening.

“Whatever you want to do to me, Oliver…” she started.

God, she was stunning. There was always something new to see when he took a moment to stare at her. Hell, he reveled in the fact that he could stare at her all he wanted at all. It was always like he was seeing her for the first time, except now he could do it openly, all he wanted. And the longer he stared at her, the more beautiful she became - he’d long ago memorized the constellation of freckles on the bridge of her nose, the barely-there indents always left over from her glasses, the flecks of silver in her eyes that you had to really look for to see.

He could look at her forever and more and it wouldn’t be enough.

Especially when she looked at him like she was right then.

“… you can do it,” she promised. “But later.”

“Felicity,” he moaned.

Her hair was coming undone, falling around her in wispy strands that’d slowly unwound as the night wore on. Most of it had happened when she’d been dancing - when they’d been dancing, she’d only danced with him so far. When her hands had been moving so freely, her arms going up, brushing through her hair, the movement taking the thin purple sheath dress she was wearing with it. 

Oliver’s mouth went dry at the memory, of seeing the creamy skin of her upper thighs for that quick second before they were gone. He’d wondered what she would have done if he’d gotten down right then and there and slid his hands up… up her supple thighs, over her smooth skin, his fingers knowing exactly where to go to get a shiver. He’d delight in the way her muscles would twitch under his touch, her breath catching, her breasts pressing against her tight bodice, her nipples hardening, a wave of goosebumps slipping across the tender skin.

He’d move all the way up to those white lace panties he knew she was wearing. He _loved_ seeing her in white.

“ _Later_.”

No, he thought, he couldn’t wait that long.

“Oliver,” she said, warning coloring her tone. “We can’t.”

“We can.”

“We can’t just disappear, we’re the-”

Oliver cut her off with a quick, “We already did,” before he wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her flush against him.

Keeping their interlaced hands between them, he pressed his other palm to the naked skin of her back, slipping his fingers through one of the low cutouts of her dress. She was so warm, her skin already hot from the wine she’d had, the dancing, the constant movement. He pushed his hand in and down, just enough to graze over the top of her panties and pushed her hips closer to his. She gasped as his growing hardness pressed into the soft expanse of her lower stomach, and he dipped down slightly, pressing himself right against her center.

Oliver’s hips moved again, urging her closer. She spread her legs a little, just enough, almost a reflex, and he shuddered, clenching his jaw. She was fighting him, but they both knew she’d give in and Oliver felt himself drowning in that certainty, her very presence washing through him, taking over everything.

“Felicity…”

As he thrust up, his eyes slipped shut at the tiny amount of friction \- it wasn’t enough, but at the same time it was, giving him something he’d been craving since they’d parted ways that morning. He’d woken her up by slipping under the sheets, using his tongue to earn that breathy cry she’d given him as she’d jerked awake, her hands flying to his head to keep him in place. Her hot little mouth had worked him when they’d gotten into the shower together, her lips and tongue sucking and licking until he’d come with a white burst of light against his lids as he’d spilled into her mouth.

 _More_.

He’d been more than ready to take her back to bed after that, but Andi, Charlie and Laurel had shown up, stealing her away from him. And then he’d had to wait all day, both of them arriving separately to the hotel, and then…

Oliver growled under his breath, not willing to let that interrupt this moment. Not when he was here, with her.

He was goddamn _starved_ for this woman. It never ceased to amaze him. Every single time he touched her, every time he had her, he wanted more. The second they were done, he itched to get inside her again, to touch her, to feel her undulating underneath him - it did nothing to sate the need that was a living thing inside him; it only fed the greedy fucker, making it beg for more.

No more waiting. He wanted her. Now.

Oliver dug his fingers into the top of her ass, grasping at her like it was their first time all over again.Felicity let out a soft keen, arching into him, her mouth falling open in a breathy, “Yes,” as her free hand grasped his neck.

Turning, he walked her backwards, until her back hit the wall.

“You… suck,” Felicity sighed, pulling him closer as she lifted her leg to wrap around him. “You really, really suck.”

He chuckled, a low sound that came from deep in his chest. “Not if you keep trying to stop me, Smoak.”

Felicity shuddered, her hold on him tightening.

Oliver crowded her against the wall. He dropped her hand to hold her closer as he nailed her to the hard plaster. He nuzzled his face against hers, breathing her in - perfume, hints of champagne and cake, red wine, and _her_ \- before his lips found her ear. His tongue darted out, nipping at her lobe, the delicate pearl earring she was wearing scraping against his teeth.

He rolled his hips, his hardness rubbing right against her delicious heat. Their intermingled moans echoed down the empty hall as Felicity rotated hers, just right so the seam of his pants slipped over her clit.

“Oh… kay,” she breathed, “this is…”

“You still wanna go back?” he asked.

Her only reply was a breathy whine.

Oliver’s hand slipped down her side, down to her leg where it was wrapped loosely around him. He pushed the material of her dress out of the way, his eyes catching hers as he found her naked skin. She was silky smooth under his fingertips and he didn’t bother fighting back his delighted moan. She felt so _good_. Oliver kept his movements deliberately slow, touching every inch of her thigh, making sure nothing went without attention as he made his way down her leg.

The second he reached her knee, he gripped her tight, yanking her leg up higher just as he thrust up against her center, hitting that perfect spot.

“Ooh _god_ ,” she groaned. Her eyes slammed shut, her nails digging into his neck, her other hand slipping down his chest, her fingers gripping the lapel of his jacket so tight he wondered if she’d tear it. “ _Oliver_ …”

The way she said his name… it was a frantic whisper that sliced right through him.

Gritting his teeth, Oliver forced himself to go slow, to take his time. He started a slow thrusting motion, rubbing himself against her center, knowing from years of experience just how to touch her and where. Her head fell back, her breathing changing, a wild flush rushing up her neck.

He drank her in, staring at her, watching her fall apart under his touch. That fact alone was a heady sensation that left him drunk on her, left him floating. That he could do this to her, that she let him… Her lipstick was fading, her lips turning into a dark ruddy color from the wine she’d been sipping at since the sun went down. That delicate flush crept up over her cheeks, making her glow, the light sheen of sweat she’d worked up on the dancefloor coming back.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

With a blush, Felicity’s eyes refocused on him. She bit her lip, fighting back the ridiculous smile she always got whenever he complimented her.

He _loved_ that smile. It was so damn contagious and he found himself grinning in response.

Oliver leaned in, his smiling lips brushing against hers.

When she gave him a tremulous sigh, melting into him, he knew he had her.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered without thinking - because she was, she was his - and he moved in to kiss her…

Felicity suddenly pulled back with a frown, her hand covering his lips, stopping him. “What’d you just say?”

Oliver’s hips stopped as he frowned. “What?”

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked. He raised his eyebrows in question. “Don’t give me that look, Oliver, you’ve been acting weird all night.”

“No, I haven’t,” he said, moving in again but she stopped him, again.

“Yes, you have. Ever since…” She paused and then she let out a heavy exhale. “This is because of Barry, isn’t it?”

That had a surge of annoyance lighting up his chest and he ground his teeth together before he caught himself.

“No,” he said simply, moving back in but she stopped him, again. “Felicity…”

“You sure about that?” she asked.

“Would you…” Oliver stopped, practically growling, pushing her further into the wall. “Are you trying to pick a fight right now?”

“No.”

“Sure seems like it. And guess what, it’s fucking working.”

“I wasn’t trying to pick a fight.” She frowned, and he didn’t like the look in her eyes as she shook her head. “I was just curious why _this_ Oliver was coming out all of a sudden. Now I know.”

“Damn it, Felicity, come on,” he breathed.

He was ready to put her down - a fight it was then - but she stopped him, cupping his face.

“Oliver, I’m with you.”

“Jesus Christ,” he snapped. “You don’t have to…”

“And you said this wasn’t a big deal.”

“It’s not.”

“You guys haven’t even said two words to each other the entire night.”

“Well, that’s probably because the last time I saw him, he tried to punch me in the goddamn face,” Oliver replied, anger edging his words. “That sort of thing puts a damper on any future friendships.”

“You don’t have to be friends,” Felicity argued. “I get it. I was there, remember? But he’s… he’s important to me, and you know that. I don’t want things to be weird.”

“I’m not making anything weird.” She gave him a pointed look and he rolled his eyes. “Me trying to seduce my future wife isn’t me acting weird.”

“No, but being a jerk while doing it is.”

“I’m not being a jerk.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Probably because you want to talk about Allen instead of letting me…” The very wrong words almost fell out of his mouth but he bit them back. Oliver cursed silently, wanting to rewind the last few minutes. “I just want to…”

Taking a deep breath, he bit his tongue to keep himself in check. She wasn’t _wrong_ , and he hated that… almost as much as he hated the fact that the kid was there, that he and Felicity had gotten so close during those years they’d been apart. Oliver probably would’ve liked him once upon a time - _maybe_ \- but it was hard to come back from how things had ended between them, especially since Felicity had been right at the center of it. It was juvenile as hell and he fucking knew it, but he didn’t _care_.

And he really, really didn’t want to talk about this.

“Can we please drop this?” He stared at her. “ _Please_.”

“Oliver…”

“I’m sorry. Okay?” It was her turn to roll her eyes. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“You know, I’d probably believe that if you weren’t being a snarling asshole right now.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “Oh, Smoak, you’d know if I was being an asshole.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a saccharine sweet whisper he knew would grate her nerves. “Because I would’ve said, ‘That’s a good girl’ when you…”

Felicity’s entire demeanor instantly changed, her back stiffening, her eyes sharpening into a glare. Her hand slipped up his neck, her nails scraping against his scalp cutting him off, and before he could so much as wince, she grabbed a handful of his hair in a tight fist, yanking his head back _hard_.

With a wild gasp, his hips jerked against her, his body melting into hers this time.

“Now who’s trying to pick a fight,” she said.

He let out a breathy laugh, the pain burning through him.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he whispered.

This time he did mean it, and she knew it.

Just like that, the tension evaporated between them. It wasn’t gone, some part of him knew that, but he was more than content to let this go. Forever, preferably.

“You know I hate when you say that to me,” she said.

“I know,” he replied. “Which is why I didn’t say it.” She narrowed her eyes in exasperation and he gave her a cheeky smile. He moved forward slightly, and it only made her tighten her grip. “Although you know how much I love when you do that.”

“You could just ask nicely, you know.” She relaxed her grip slightly and then her face softened. “I know there’s a really… _colorful_ history there, Oliver.” He snorted. “But please try. Please.”

“I am trying.”

And he _was_. Things could’ve gone a helluva lot different if he’d responded to the look the kid had shot him when he’d first arrived.

“Oliver. Come on. You’re acting like you need to mark your territory, and hey, guess what, I’m not territory.”

“That’s not…”

He closed his eyes.

It wasn’t just that, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. No, it was that when Allen looked at him, Oliver knew he was seeing the person he’d been before. The person who’d taken advantage of everyone around him, including her. The person that in no way, shape or form deserved the life he had now. It was like looking into a goddamn mirror that reflected all the fucked up stuff in his past, a reminder that nothing had really changed in him, that that person was still inside him.

It was that when he saw that look on Allen’s face, Oliver saw the man he was seeing, the man who would fuck all of this up.

He had to believe that that wasn’t going to happen. He had to. Because if he lost this, if he lost her again… Everything in him turned to ice at the thought. He couldn’t. He _wouldn’t_.

“Oliver?” Her hand landed on his cheek, pulling him back. “Hey…”

“I’ll do better.” Oliver smiled. “I promise.”

She just stared at him. “Are you okay? Is something else…”

“I’m okay,” he replied, and even he heard the sincerity in his voice. “I swear.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. But then she finally saw what she must have been looking for because she smiled, giving him a little nod.

“Okay. Good.” She pulled him for a chaste kiss. “Thank you.”

Oliver leaned in to kiss her again, more than eager to put this entire conversation behind them, but she pulled back before he could reach her. She tilted her head and he furrowed his brow, watching a smile slowly take over her face.

“What?” he asked.

“I was just thinking,” she said, her hand slipping down his jaw. She tapped his chin. “About what I would’ve done if you’d said that to me before.”

Oliver fought back a grimace.

He remembered very well the _before_ she was talking about.

Tonight was a night for walking down memory lane, wasn’t it? It wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured the night going.

He still didn’t understand how they’d started out as they had, how they’d gone through everything they’d done to each other, only to end up here.

The closer they’d gotten to today - to tomorrow, to the final steps towards their forever together - the more he found himself thinking about all the what-if’s in their world… about how different things would have been if they’d started later, way later, after the Gambit. Or maybe after she’d left, or even if she’d stayed at Queen & Queen, taking his position when he’d switched departments… It wouldn’t be this, what they had now, he knew that for certain. And he wondered if things would have been easier, gentler… better.

But still, despite the way they’d started, the dark places they’d pushed each other to, it’d gotten them here, to this moment. All the shit they’d gone through, everything they’d put each other through, it’d all led to what was happening tomorrow. And maybe that would never have happened otherwise, and he couldn’t regret that even if he wanted to.

And even though it made him want to punch a hole through a few walls, if that also meant he had to put up with the reminders of those times in the form of Barry Allen, he would handle it.

He would do anything for her.

Felicity ran her fingers over his brow, giving him a quiet smile.

They never really talked about it, he realized, although what exactly was there to talk about? What’s done was done, and they were here now. That was all that mattered. Hell, he’d go through it all again a thousand times if it meant getting to this single moment.

Oliver closed the distance between them, his nose nuzzling hers, sinking into that certainty.

He would, he would do it all again if it meant he could have her, like this.

“You would’ve ripped me to shreds,” he whispered.

Felicity snorted and then she laughed. She nodded, holding his face. “Oh yes, yes, I would have.” She pulled him closer, finishing with, “And you would’ve loved it,” before she kissed him.

She wasn’t wrong, goddamn it, and as she kissed him with a dominating force she hadn’t used in a while, he suddenly remembered very, _very_ well why they’d kept doing what they’d done.

Oliver moaned, shoving her into the wall. Her tongue ran over his lip, begging entrance, and he opened for her, giving her everything he could, everything he had.

The kiss quickly grew into more, so much more, a culmination of having to watch her all night, feeling eyes on him; but more simply, not being able to touch her how he wanted to, even though he could, even though it was well within his right. God, he just should’ve. He’d avoided her most of the night, no wonder she’d thought he was acting weird. Well, they were here now, both of them… and that was all that mattered.

He kissed her, harder, and she returned it readily. Her teeth nipped at him, her nails scraping his cheeks as she lifted her leg higher, wrapping her leg around him, urging him to move.

And move he did.

He hauled her closer and thrust up, right against her heat. She cried out and he swallowed all the little noises she made as he did it again, his cock straining in his pants. He gripped her knee so hard he felt a niggle of concern that he was going to bruise her, but she quickly drowned that thought when she yanked on the collar to get closer to him. His shirt dug into his skin so hard it burned and it only fueled the fire quickly growing between them.

This _urgency_ , the near-violent need to feel the other, to get as close as possible… He’d never felt anything like this with anyone in his entire life, not before and not since. It was something that they’d never failed to recapture, no matter what was happening between them. They needed each other with a desperation that was so base, so primordial, that it transcended anything - it had and it would. It was the one thing that kept them chasing each other for all those months at the beginning, the one thing that kept them tethered through all those years, what brought them back together, gave them a reason to give it another chance… what let them finally become _more_.

Oliver pulled her knee up higher - her skin was so hot it seared his palm - as his other hand slipped down her side. He shoved her dress out of the way, growling mindlessly against her lips. He sprawled his hand over her ass, his fingers slipping under the lacy thong, pulling the material tight against her sensitive sex.

She whined, her hips jerking against his, pushing him higher. His hand slipped down underneath her, taking her thong with him as he picked her up and slammed her into the wall.

For a blessedly long minute, there was nothing but their hips grinding against each other, the rustle of their clothes, the squeak of his shoe on the floor, their muffled cries mixed in with gasps for air. Their movements became more urgent, a low burn building at the base of his spine, her body starting to tremble with her growing pleasure.

He told himself to stop, to find a room, but he was too far gone, and she felt too damn good.

The sound of an opening door shattered the moment.

Felicity pulled back with a startled gasp, her eyes flying to the ballroom they’d left. Oliver instantly set her back on her feet, not letting her go for a second, especially when her knees buckled.

Voices, and then footsteps.

“Come on,” Felicity whispered, grabbing his hand.

Oliver barely had time to look at her before she was moving, pulling him behind her this time. She tried the first door they found, but it was locked. The second one was too, but the third one was open. He glanced back over his shoulder, catching a hint of someone walking towards them but then she tugged him into the room.

It was a conference room. The lights were out and they barely dodged the long table in the center of the room, the light from the hallway their only illumination. 

Neither of them paused long enough to realize that the door wasn’t closing behind them, that anyone walking by would know someone was in there.

Felicity pulled him towards the open door in the corner, a bathroom. The second they were in, her hand slapped the wall, finding the switch. Light instantly blinded him, but he didn’t need it, because she was right there, turning back to him, her hands grabbing his face, tugging him down.

Their lips crashed together with a ferocity that made him gasp. Desperation lined their every move as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. Her hands slipped inside his jacket, trying to push it off. He wanted to move, wanted to let her slide it off him, but he couldn’t stop touching her, and he didn’t want to. His hands found her ass and he dug his fingers in, nearly lifting her off her feet in his haste to feel her hot core against him again.

“Clothes,” Felicity gasped. “I need…” He cut her off with his lips, and for a second she gave in, kissing him back. But then she pulled back, her hand snaking into his hair as she whispered, “I need you inside me, Oliver. Right now.”

“Yes…” he moaned, kissing her again. “God, yes, me too.” He’d never tire of hearing those words on her lips, not ever. It sent his desire through the roof and he picked her, trying to set her on the sink, but she stopped him with a shake of her head. “What?”

Felicity pulled back, and he just about lost it when he saw how ravaged she looked. Her lips were swollen, her skin marred from his beard, the one he was growing out because he knew she liked it a little longer. Her lids were heavy with need, her eyes shining, her skin glowing. She licked her lips and Oliver groaned, moving in to kiss her again, but she dodged him. The movement exposed her neck to him and he didn’t care that she was trying to tell him something as his lips found her pulse point.

“Oliver,” she keened, fisting his hair. He licked and sucked, fighting the urge to dig his teeth in, knowing that’d get him in trouble. “We have to be… presentable…”

He hummed in response, backing them up until her ass hit the bathroom counter.

“Clothes,” she gasped. “Get your clothes off.” He ignored her, more than content with the way they were right then, perfectly happy to lift her up and move around the obstacles, not giving two shits about the people they’d have to face again in a few minutes, but she wasn’t having any of it. Felicity yanked on his hair, pulling him back and he winced in pain, his eyes meeting hers. “Get your clothes off, Oliver. _Now_.”

With a tiny nod and a whispered, “Okay,” he let her go. She pushed him back, her hands flying to the back of her dress.

Oliver watched her every move with hungry eyes. He knew he was undressing, knew he was shucking his jacket, yanking his suspenders off and undoing his pants before pulling his shirts off, but all he saw was her gorgeous body as her dress slipped to the floor. She toed off her shoes, her gaze on him as she pushed her panties off, leaving her in nothing but a strapless bra.

“God,” Oliver rasped, his voice hoarse. “Felicity…”

Felicity smiled, backing up. Oliver shoved his pants and boxers down, his cock springing free as she reached the counter and picked herself up, sitting on the edge. When she spread her legs slightly, exposing her wet sex to him, he almost launched himself at her, not caring in the least that he’d trip because his feet were still tangled in his pants. Some part of his brain was still working though and he got at least one leg free before he attacked.

With a loud moan, Oliver wrapped himself around her, the counter at the perfect level. His rock hard length pressed against her heat, making them both groan as they moved at the same time, both of them thrusting against the other. He brushed over her clit and Felicity yelped, her head falling back, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. Oliver took complete advantage. He slid a hand up her back, sprawling out to hold her as he kissed his way up the column of her neck while the other unhooked her bra. It fell between them and Felicity grabbed it, tossing it onto the floor.

She arched her back, pressing her naked breasts against his chest.

“Oh god,” Felicity moaned. Oliver hugged her tighter, pulling her flush against him, his hips still moving. “Yes… Oliver…”

“I love you,” he whispered, over and over, his lips finding her ear. “I love you, Felicity.”

“Yes…”

With practiced ease, Oliver pulled his hips back, the head of his cock moving through her wet folds until he found her entrance.

Moving in time with him, Felicity angled her hips just right, and he slid home, pushing into her with one solid thrust.

He filled her to the brink and she cried out, the sound ending in a guttural moan of his name, one hand gripping the back of his neck the other falling to the sink to hold on. She used it as leverage, lifting herself up to meet him as he pulled out and thrust back in. He did it again, and again, her silken walls clamping down around him, feeling so damn good, so hot, so _wet_ …

“Oh… _fuck_ ,” Oliver whimpered, curling himself around her, digging his face into her throat.

She nodded, whispering his name as she kissed his cheek, his ear, his temple, meeting each of his thrusts.

“Felicity…”

They lost themselves in each other, the world around them disappearing… so much so that they didn’t hear the footsteps from the hallway, didn’t see the change in the shadows when three people stopped outside the conference room. They didn’t hear Barry’s, “Is that…?” or Tommy’s snicker, nor did they see Laurel rolling her eyes as she whispered, “They do realize that this is their rehearsal dinner, right?” They didn’t catch Barry’s pinched look or see Tommy shaking his head with a salacious grin as he said, “Just imagine all the fun places we’ll find them tomorrow,” before he shut the door.

Oliver started out slow, taking his time. He wanted it to last forever… but it quickly became too much. His core tightened, his pleasure sharpening, a hot burn starting to build at the base of his spine.

“ _Felicity_.”

Pulling back, he slid his hand up the back of her neck, cradling her head as he found her lips again. The kiss was wet and messy, both of them panting, their grips tightening. Felicity lifted her legs higher, and he went deeper, making them both moan. He thrust into her harder, one hand slipping down her spine to her ass, holding her still as he pounded into her, the sound of their pelvises slapping together filling the small room.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Felicity panted, holding him closer, kissing him. “Oliver… faster, please… faster…”

Oliver pushed her back over the counter, holding her tight. He gasped, sensation overwhelming him as he moved faster… harder… over and over. She started to tremble, her nails digging into him, a shudder wracking her body as her cries grew louder. Her voice bounced off the walls, echoing his own.

She was so tight, so wet, so hot, squeezing him so perfectly, so damn perfectly. 

That white hot burn suddenly spiked.

“Oh god, Felicity,” he moaned, panting her name again, their lips brushing against each other. He needed to feel her coming around him, feel her sucking him in deeper, deeper… They breathed each other’s air as he whispered, “Come for me, baby, come for me.” She nodded rapidly, her thighs starting to shake, her breaths coming in short gasps… she was close, he could feel it. “Felicity…”

His pleasure grew hotter, and he thrust faster, his hips losing all rhythm.

“Oooh, yes, right there, there, there…! Don’t stop, don’t stop… Oliver, Oliver, please… Oh… god, ah, ah, ah!”

She suddenly stiffened, holding on as tight as she could, and he moved faster, urging her to that delicate peak…

With a soundless cry, Felicity came, her body jerking against his, and it pushed him over the edge.

Oliver came with a vicious shout, his orgasm ripping through him. He clung to her, his hips moving mindlessly as he spilled into her, barely aware of her own hips moving to meet his, of her holding onto him with everything she had as they moved together.

It lasted forever and a second at the same time.

He wasn’t sure when they stopped moving, only aware of her warmth wrapped around him, her face nuzzling his, their lips coming together in a series of soft, loving kisses that he felt in his bones. There was nothing quite like this, this perfect moment when he was buried deep inside her, both of them radiating with pleasure, holding each other.

Felicity sighed, sounding so happy and blissed out that it sent him soaring. She kissed him, not willing to move, just as much as he wasn’t willing to ever let her go.

“Hey,” she said, pulling back just enough to look at him. Their skin was damp, their hearts still pounding as she cupped his face, staring into his eyes. There was so much love shining out at him that he wanted to collapse. Felicity cradled him close. “I love you.”

He nodded, pushing his hands into her hair, making it even messier than it already was. “I love you too.”

A long minute passed where they just held each other, until he gradually became aware of where exactly they were, that his ass was getting cold, his legs starting to get tired.

With a heavy sigh, Oliver moved, pulling out of her. Felicity whined as he left her wet heat, a trail of his cum following him.

“Mm… no, wait,” Felicity said, tugging him back for another kiss. “Come back here.”

They both hissed when his sensitive half-erect cock slipped against her, but it didn’t deter them in the least as their lips met. It started out soft and slow, before it grew, their tongues tangling, his hands cradling her face with a loving tenderness that filled his heart.

He loved this woman, so damn much.

With one last kiss, he pulled back, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. He knew they needed to get dressed, they needed to get back, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“What?” she asked, completely relaxed and content.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Oliver said.

Felicity grinned, practically glowing. God, that she was this happy, because of him? That would always blow him away, always.

“Me too.” She leaned up for another kiss, and the second their lips touched, she whispered, “Mr. Smoak.”

He laughed, kissing her again, feeling a lightness that only she could give him as she chuckled.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did this one because I think part of me wanted to explore Oliver's regret after that last installment. (Alright, it was mostly in response to some people's reactions, this was nicely cathartic for me since Oliver doesn't get there right away). I wasn't planning on diving into their future just yet, because it's not all sunshine and roses, as the undercurrents in this update indicate.
> 
> Their HEA is far off, my friends.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	11. 6:44 a.m. Their House (Flash Fic #1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Flash Fic) It's coffee vs. tea early one morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of saved images and gifs for fics, like way more than I could possibly ever write full stories for. So I’ll be trying my hand at some flash fics (just for Four Walls at this point) to start getting through them. Happy reading!
> 
> Reminder: This story is being told out of order! You can now view the **[Four Walls Timeline](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/fourwalls)** , listing the fics as they happen chronologically for Oliver and Felicity.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, here’s my [Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).

The heat from her ceramic mug seeped into her fingers, staving off the crisp morning air. She hummed with pleasure, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath as a light breeze swept through the backyard. She caught hints of the damp earth around her, a fireplace burning somewhere, the storm already gathering in the distance, and the remnants of Oliver - both the pancakes he’d made and the hint of _him_ still lingering on her skin from when she’d woken him up.

Felicity smiled.

Life was nice.

Another breeze had her curling her fingers against her mug. She ran a little hotter these days, but her fingers hadn’t gotten the memo. Not that she was complaining. If cold fingers was still her penance for amazing Fall mornings that included newly fallen leaves and the actual hoard of pumpkins she’d brought home last week? Yeah, she was okay with that.

The sound of the porch door sliding open prefaced Oliver’s soft, “That’s better,” as he stepped outside to rejoin her.

“I’m pretty sure this is the part where I say I told you so,” Felicity replied, glancing back at her husband. But when she saw him, she paused, her smile quickly turning into a frown - he was only holding a cup of coffee.

Completely oblivious to the look she was giving him, Oliver gave her a dry, “Yeah, yeah,” before sitting down next to her on the porch steps. And then he just sipped his coffee. _Bastard._ It took him a full thirty seconds to finally notice her stare. When he did, it was his turn to pause. “What?”

“Did you forget something?” Felicity asked.  


“No.” Oliver lifted his cup with a smile. “I got my coffee right here, Smoak.” His smile turned saccharine sweet as he added, “And yes, it is so much better than what you have there.”

Felicity turned to face him, narrowing her eyes. “Oliver.”  


His smile only grew, his eyes never leaving hers. “Felicity.”  


“You better have it.”  


“Have what?”  


“I swear…”  


Oliver’s chuckle cut her off and before she could add the colorful threat already floating in her mind, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the very thing he was supposed to be getting, on top of his precious caffeine-laced coffee.

Felicity’s face gave way to a delighted grin as Oliver set the bottle of honey on the step between their feet. 

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I don’t have a death wish just yet.”

“I’d say thank you,” Felicity replied. “But you just had to add that ‘just yet’ business. Now you only get you a peck.”

“Well, considering the very nice kiss I got this morning…”  


She snorted. “Shut up and kiss me.” But she didn’t wait - Felicity leaned in and kissed him. She had every intention of staying simple, of just a peck… until the delicious mixture that was Oliver Queen and coffee made her moan. God, she missed coffee. A lot. 

Felicity ran her tongue across his lips, begging entrance. With a little whine, he readily gave it to her. She sighed. _He tasted_ _so damn good right now_.

“Tea,” he whispered against her lips.  


She only moaned in response, kissing him again.

Oliver pulled back, licking his lips - and _oh_ , that had her moaning for a very different reason - before he looked pointedly at her mug.

“No more until you put some honey in there.” She pouted and he had to bite his tongue to keep his smile at bay. “I’m serious. That tastes horrible.” She pushed her lip out even further. He couldn’t stop his smile this time, but he still shook his head. “Nope.” Felicity dropped her shoulders and she jutted her chin out, emphasizing her pout. Oliver laughed, looking like he wasn’t going to give in… until he looked at her. R _eally_  looked. “Damn it.” With a sigh and a shake of his head, he leaned back into her, whispering, “Only you can be so damn cute and so incredibly gorgeous at the same time, Smoak,” before he kissed her.

“You love it,” she replied. She moved to deepen the kiss, but before she could he grinned, pulling back just enough to add, “I do. I love it a lot.” 

Felicity shook her head, ready to retort with something witty, she was sure, but then his lips were on hers again and a few seconds later, she completely forgot what they’d been talking about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	12. 7:03 p.m. Oliver's Apartment (Flash Fic #2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Flash Fic #2) Oliver is seeing someone special for dinner, but that doesn't stop Felicity from coming over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you _so much_ for the wonderful response to the last flash fic! I find my brain doesn't have the capacity for full 'verse fics all that often at the moment because I'm focusing on FICoN. But yay flash fics! Plenty more to come! (Pun very intended.) I've also been very bad about responding to your amazing comments - until I do, please know they mean the world to me!
> 
> I have a lot of saved images and gifs for fics, like way more than I could possibly ever write full stories for. So I’ll be trying my hand at some flash fics (in theory, 1000 words or less) to start getting through them. Happy reading!
> 
> Reminder: This story is being told out of order! You can now view the **[Four Walls Timeline](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/fourwalls)** , listing the fics as they happen chronologically for Oliver and Felicity.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, here’s my [Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).

The second he opened the door, she was on him. She didn’t pause to appreciate his look of surprise or how his eyes dilated when he saw her or that he was shirtless or how low his jeans were on his hips. 

“Uh, hi,” he managed, his eyebrows flying up. She gave him a breathy, “Hi,” before pushing him back, slamming the door shut behind her. 

Oliver chuckled - that low rumbly sound that never failed to make her insides melt - and shook his head. “Not tonight, Smoak.” He moved to open the door again, but she shoved him back before he could touch it. His face instantly soured. Felicity closed the distance between them, forcing him to backpedal. He narrowed his eyes, his voice lowering with censure. “ _Felicity_ …”

She ignored him, stepping closer, crowding him back into the living room. He said her name again, dragging it out, but she didn’t relent. Her hands found his bare chest, her nails scraping at the strict lines of his muscles, over his nipples, making him hiss. He tried to grab her arms, tried to ward her off, but she dodged him, pushing him until they reached the couch. The instant his knees hit the cushions, she used her momentum to shove him back. 

He landed with an angry curse, and he was already moving to get back up when Felicity yanked her dress up and climbed on top of him.

“Hey!” Oliver snapped, sitting up. “Goddamn it, Smoak, I said…”  


She didn’t let him finish. 

Felicity’s mouth slanted over his, swallowing the rest of his words. 

He growled, the sound coming from deep in his chest, but it did nothing to deter her. Instead Felicity grabbed his jaw, angling his head, her tongue running along the tight seam of his lips, demanding entrance. He fought it, fought her, grabbing her like he was going to toss her off him.

For a quick second, she thought he just might. His muscles tensed up as he inhaled sharply, his hands sliding up her ribs, his grip tightening… 

But then he gave in. 

With a needy whine, Oliver melted, opening up for her. 

Felicity let out a pleased moan, immediately pushing her tongue into his mouth, seeking his. His stubble scraped at her palms and chin as he moved against her, their teeth clashing. It was vicious and unforgiving, both taking as much as they could with the little time they had. It left her feeling raw, used… and it only made her want more.

The kiss quickly grew with bruising intensity. It matched his hard hands when he pulled her closer with a rough jerk, making her whimper.

Oliver’s fingers curled into her, holding her so hard it hurt. The sharp pain had need unfurling in the pit of her stomach. It spiraled out, flooding her senses until all that mattered was him - touching him, feeling him.

Felicity mindlessly rolled her hips against his. He was already getting hard, the front of his jeans bulging, rubbing against her damp panties. She mewled, pressing herself even closer. She spread her legs until she was flush against his hardness.

Oliver jerked, the move eliciting a harsh, “Damn it, Felicity,” before he wrenched away. He grabbed her ass with crushing force and lifted her off him. “S _top_.”

She finally paused.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their harsh breathing. Their faces were a bare inch apart, their breaths mingling, the heat fogging her glasses slightly. Their eyes were locked together, Oliver’s slowly growing darker with angry agitation. 

That only made her smile. 

Without a word, she let him go, but she didn’t move. 

Instead, she reached back and started tugging her dress up. 

He clenched his jaw, shaking his head, tightening his hold on her. She winced, but she didn’t stop… and he didn’t stop her. Felicity pulled it up, sliding it against his strong fingers. Felicity licked her lips, her breaths growing shallow with desire, especially when his pupils expanded, his own need so evident.

And then his hands were on her bare ass.

Before he could stop himself he grabbed a handful, gripping her so tight it made her whine his name.

Oliver shook his head, his eyes dropping to her mouth, whispering, “We can’t…” His muscles bunched, every inch of him taut, like he was fighting himself just as much as he was fighting her. His palms brushed over her sensitive skin, his fingers trembling. It sent a sharp shiver down her spine, making her jerk against him. His skin was pure heat and it burned right through her dress, making them both gasp. “Fuck,” he moaned. His face inched closer to hers - his lids were heavy, his lips swollen, his cheeks ruddy with the flush of arousal - all because of her, for her. She dropped her hands to cover his, urging him to hold her with even more force. “ _Felicity_ …”

But he still didn’t do anything.

His hesitation lasted a second just as much as it lasted an eternity.

“Oliver,” she whispered, moving to cup his face again. “Don’t stop.” 

He let out a shaky breath at that, his eyes nearly fluttering shut. She knew he had time, if they were fast. And that was what she wanted - hard and fast, right now. Felicity ran her thumb over his bottom lip. It was swollen from her kisses.

She met his eyes.

“Touch me…” __

His breath hitched.  


_“Now_.”

He snapped.

Oliver grabbed her, _hard_ , and twisted, damn near throwing her down on the couch. In the next instant he blanketed her body with his, pushing her deep into the cushions, pressing himself between her thighs until he was flush against her again. The hard seam of his jeans pressed against her throbbing center and she let out a shocked, “Ooh!” as she arched into him.

“Five minutes,” he gasped before his lips covered hers.

He stayed true to his word - four minutes in her moans dissolved into desperate cries that echoed through his apartment, and then his quickly joined hers as they fell to pieces in each other’s arms.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.
> 
> (Btw, the 'someone special' probably isn't who you think it is.)


	13. 4:47 p.m. Oliver's Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt: Oliver has a cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is slightly shorter than my usual normal chapters, because this started out as another of my flash fics for this series. I'm trying to write a bunch of those so I can update with some more frequency (haha, I'm funny). Alas, this one got long on me so it's getting a regular chapter update. Also, I've been getting requests to explore areas of Oliver and Felicity _outside_ their sexual relationship. I kept that in mind with this update!
> 
> Please note I added some additional tags.
> 
>  **Reminder A/N:** This is a dark fic, and it explores dark themes. This isn't an Olicity that gets to a healthy Happily Ever After without stumbling approximately 232,009 times. 
> 
> Reminder: This story is being told out of order! You can now view the **[Four Walls Timeline](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/fourwalls)** , listing the fics as they happen chronologically for Oliver and Felicity.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, here’s my [Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).

Oliver sneezed.

The sudden burst of pressure exploded inside his head, sending a spike of pain right through his skull. He moaned pitifully, closing his eyes. God, he felt like _shit_. His eyelids were lined with sandpaper, his sinuses stuffed with cotton. When he tried to clear his nose - to sniffle, to breathe, to do anything - it made his entire head throb. He was goddamn _miserable_ , and he’d _been_ miserable, for days now.

He was going to find the asshole who’d given him this cold and kill them.

With a groan, Oliver focused on his notes. It was the last thing he wanted to do, the very last thing, and his body knew it. Whenever he tried to focus, his headache spiked, which made his neck stiff and achy, which then made his entire head feel it was a hundred times heavier. He wanted to lay down right there on his sofa and sleep for twenty years. Twenty _more_ years. He’d slept all weekend, on top of inhaling every cold medicine he could find and sitting in the hot shower until it ran cold. He’d done everything short of sticking a pencil up his nose to create a new airway.

Nothing _worked_.

Oliver groaned again, rubbing his forehead. His skin was clammy and chilly, but somehow hot at the same time. He could _feel_ his headache throbbing against his fingertips. Dropping his head into his hands, he sighed. It felt so good to close his eyes, but it lasted barely a second, the relief so damn fleeting he wanted to cry.

He just needed to go through this one thing and then he could go home. The thought of falling into bed after taking a pound more of cold medicine \- the kind that knocked you on your ass - was _heavenly_. It wouldn’t last long, but for a few hours, he wouldn’t feel anything, and damn if he didn’t need that.

Just this one thing.

Oliver looked down, trying to focus again. He moaned under his breathe when the change in angle made his entire face ache.

He didn’t hear the door opening through the clogged weight in his ears, didn’t hear the footsteps or the rustling of papers. He didn’t know anyone was in the room with him until a shadow settled over the notepad in his lap. Goddamn it, he had his door closed for a reason.

“What?” he grouched, his voice a raspy mess as he looked up. He was ready to follow it up with a very kind, _‘I don’t actually care, get the fuck out,’_ when he saw who it was. Oliver’s stomach _swooped_ , twisting his insides in a way that made him severely uncomfortable. It only compounded the pain radiating through his body. He really didn’t want to deal with this right now - with her and her bullshit, with that crap that’d happened with Allen, with whatever that swooping feeling was… with _anything_.

So he glowered at her.

She returned it wholeheartedly.

“Karma’s a bitch, huh?” Felicity asked.

Claws of aggravation sank into his chest as he bit out, “I’m not in the fucking mood, Smoak.”

“Well, that’s the great thing about karma,” she replied, just enough snap to her voice to make him wince. “It really doesn’t care.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes, trying to keep himself upright to face her, not wanting to wilt under her unforgiving glare.

He lasted all of ten seconds.

He just didn’t have the energy. He’d barely seen her since that night with Barry. He hadn’t asked her to come over and he hadn’t shown up at her place. They’d more than kept their distance. To say that night had been a huge clusterfuck was an understatement. It wasn’t helping that he knew he should regret it, but he didn’t. And he was pretty sure it was that fact that was pissing her off more than the night ending with bruised knuckles and bloody noses.

Just thinking about it was making him even more tired than he already was.

He couldn’t do this right now. He wanted her to get the hell out of there with those gorgeous accusing eyes of hers. Especially because some part of him, buried deep inside, felt the tiniest bit of relief that she was in there. Her presence was a soothing balm. She made him feel better.

That was something he just could not deal with right now.

With a soft sigh of surrender, Oliver damn near collapsed into the sofa cushions. “What do you need, Felicity?”

He was too distracted by the pressure in his head to notice her hesitation or to see the way her brows knit together.

All he cared about was that she wasn’t leaving. And he needed her to. He couldn’t go one round with her right now, much less several.

“ _Felicity_.”

He didn’t notice how he dragged her name out - _Fe-li-ci-ty_ \- or that it didn’t even occur to him to use her last name.

She pursed her lips, taking a slow breath before handing him a few papers. “I need your signature on these.” He didn’t look at them as he took them from her. “They’re for the-”

“I trust you,” Oliver interrupted, barely finding the line he needed to sign on each page before handing them back. For the first time he heard the chatter outside his door, the sound of a copier, a stapler, someone on the phone. It only reminded him of his headache. He closed his eyes briefly \- just a few more minutes and then he could go - before handing the papers back to her. “Can you please close the door behind you?”

She took the papers. He was ridiculously aware of her fingertips grazing his as she said, “Sure,” before turning to leave.

Oliver closed his eyes again, telling himself to keep his head up until he heard the door shut. He just had to finish this project and then he could go home. It was the one major thing due this week, the one thing he had to get finished for the trial starting next Tuesday, and he was already behind as it was. That last thing he needed was asshole from Litigation appearing again, breathing down his neck because they were “still missing” the overall presentation schematics.

The soft snick of the door shutting finally sounded.

He exhaled loudly, letting his head drop. He didn’t let himself take a second to examine why disappointment and regret burned bright in his chest before he squashed it.

Silence filled the office.

It only reminded him how badly he wanted to sleep.

Oliver sat up again, opening his eyes, looking back at his notes. His mouth soured when he caught a moment of clarity, realizing that while he’d been studying this same notepad for two hours already, he’d barely done anything. Damn it, he was going to be here all night at this rate.

The carpet groaned behind him, just enough to catch his attention, before she touched his shoulders.

Relief washed through him, so heady it made him groan.

_She’d stayed._

Oliver dropped the notepad in his lap, moving his hand to hers. She was here. It was nothing like the last time she’d touched him. No, this was soft, gentle. God, he was so glad she hadn’t left. It was a little shocking, actually, but he didn’t stop to think about it or question what he was feeling. Because she was there, and for the first time in days he felt like he could relax. And he did. He melted under her touch, sinking into the sofa cushions with a sigh. His fingers managed to graze hers, but that was all the strength he had. His hand dropped to the sofa, bouncing on the cushion.

“Felicity…”

She leaned over, her voice was beautifully soft as she whispered, “Shh…” into his ear.

She gripped his shoulders - it felt _amazing_. She moved her hands down, over his chest. He knew his skin was hot, ridiculously hot, mostly because he could feel how deliciously cool hers were, even through his shirt. She hummed under her breath, a sound that he might have confused for concern if he’d been paying any attention.

When she reached his tie, she tugged on it.

Oliver made a questioning sound, but he was fading _fast_. He’d been fine when it was just him, because that’s all he’d had - _him_. But now, with someone else there - really, with her there - he succumbed to his body’s need for rest with an alacrity that was alarming.

Felicity made quick work of his tie where she stood behind him. She dropped it to the sofa and started unbuttoning his shirt.

The cool air in the room felt wonderful just as much as it made him shiver.

“Oliver,” she said, keeping her voice quiet for his sake. “How long have you been sick?”

“Not that long,” he replied. The words were a little slurred, both with sleep and with the wonderful comfort of letting go under her touch. When the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, she spread the material open, pressing one of her hands inside. He hummed, turning his face towards her. He nuzzled the inside of her arm. “You feel so good.”

She made a tiny huffing noise before pulling away from him.

Oliver whimpered - he actually _whimpered_ \- and opened his eyes to look for her. It was more like dragging his eyes open as he turned his head to look behind him. He might have been ready to tell her to get the hell out a moment ago, but now… now he wasn’t above begging her to stay. There was something about her presence that soothed him, and he _craved_ it. It was something he knew he’d hate when he was in his right mind, but he didn’t care. She made him feel better. That was all that mattered.

He didn’t have to look far because she was making her way around the sofa and back towards him.

Oliver sat up, the forgotten notes in his lap falling to the side as he scooted forward, reaching for her. He felt like he was moving through quicksand. It was downright bizarre how he suddenly could barely move now that she was there, like some part of him knew she’d take care of him. He had no earthly idea where this certainty was coming from, but it was there. And it felt good.

All he could manage was scooting to the edge of the sofa. He spread his legs to make room for her when she stopped in front of him.

Felicity cupped his face, tilting his head back gently. A wave of sinus pressure rushed through his head. Oliver’s face scrunched up, and it quickly turned into a scowl when she moved one hand over his forehead. She hissed under her breath. He knew how hot he was; he’d noticed the _slight_ fever a few days ago. Felicity pressed her fingers into his forehead, right above his brows. Oliver winced, letting out a breath of relief when she stopped. It wasn’t too bad… until she pressed her thumbs into his cheeks, right next to his nose.

Sharp pain shot through his tender face.

“Ow,” Oliver whimpered, trying to pull away from her. “Stop that.” But she didn’t. Instead, she pressed a little harder, making him groan in pain. “Damn it, Felicity, that fucking _hurts_.”

“Suck it up,” she whispered.

He didn’t remember when his hands had moved to grip her thighs, but they had, with surprising strength. She was wearing a skirt - a beautiful, colorful skirt that was so perfectly Felicity - and her toned legs were bare. He pressed his palms flat against them. Her skin was wonderfully cool under his feverish touch.

It took him a second to realize her front was flush against his, that his chin was practically touching her soft abdomen.

She was so close… and she hadn’t been in so long.

God, he missed her.

Not that he’d ever, ever, _ever_ tell her that.

“I think you have a sinus infection,” she finally said.

All Oliver could muster was an almost silent, “Huh.”

“You need to go see a doctor tomorrow,” Felicity instructed. Her voice was off, but maybe that was just because he wasn’t hearing all that well. “If not tonight. You look like death warmed over, Oliver.”

“Compliments are a one-way street to getting into my pants,” Oliver managed. He made a sound that was supposed to be a chuckle, but the slight movement only made him feel like he was being rammed with a Mack truck. He moaned pathetically.

“Nice,” she replied caustically. Maybe it wasn’t a _lack_ of hearing, maybe it was that he was just hearing things because of the cold. He swore her tone wasn’t as vitriolic as it had been. Felicity dropped her hands to his shoulders, patting them gently. “Come on, let’s get you home.” Felicity stepped back. “C’mon.”

The second he felt her moving away from him, he latched onto her.

“No, wait,” Oliver breathed, trying to pull her back. “Please.”

She hesitated for a split second. Somehow that single second felt longer than the entire last week, especially when his arms were too heavy to close the distance between them. But then she came back. She didn’t fight him as he pulled her back between his legs.

He let out a content sigh, whispering, “Just for a minute,” under his breath as he pressed his hands flush against her thighs again. “You’re so warm…”

One hand drifted up as his other arm wrapped around her legs. His fingers skated over her ample backside, but there was nothing sexual about it, not in the least. He just held her. For the first time in a long time, he was touching Felicity Smoak without the intention of making her turn to putty in his hands. He could reduce her to a quivering mess if he wanted, but that didn’t change the fact that she was always so strong, so sure and steady. He needed that right now, badly. He needed her to stay solid. It was selfish as hell, and if she pushed him away right now, he wouldn’t blame her in the least. Hell, he half-expected her to, especially when he pushed his fingers into the band of her skirt, holding her tighter.

But she didn’t push him away.

No, she let him lean on her.

Oliver sighed again, whispering, “Thank you,” before pressing his face into her stomach. He felt her breath hitch, felt her stiffen slightly, before relaxing again.

She was _heavenly_ , so much better than home and the promise of bed and cold medicine. She was all softness, just firm enough to apply some pressure to his face. It was the right kind, relieving the ache without making him grimace in pain.

Felicity curled around him, her breasts pressing against the top of his head, her fingers sliding through his hair. God, it was wonderful. His shuddered sigh probably told her that because she scraped her nails over his scalp, again and again.

It was gentle, soothing… comforting.

Oliver didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke a few hours later, he found himself covered in a flowery blanket - from her office - and a sticky note on his forehead with the number of a doctor.

The End 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really feel the need to stress how unhealthy Oliver and Felicity's relationship is in this series. The more I dive into the story between the plot pillars I've set up for myself, the darker it gets. So I guess what I'm saying is thank you for sticking with me as I explore this shadowed side of Olicity! It's fascinating and disturbing as hell. They have so much capacity for light and love, but that only makes the flip side even scarier. In my mind, at least.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	14. 9:42 a.m. Starling Creek Country Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver teases Felicity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was, once again, supposed to be a flash fic. I fail at brevity.
> 
> **Reminder A/N:** This is a dark fic, and it explores dark themes. This isn't an Olicity that gets to a healthy Happily Ever After without stumbling approximately 232,009 times. 
> 
> Reminder: This story is being told out of order! You can now view the **[Four Walls Timeline](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/fourwalls)** , listing the fics as they happen chronologically for Oliver and Felicity.
> 
> I’ve put together a playlist: [Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L). If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them!

“Please…”

Her hiss fell on deaf ears.

She whined under her breath, a shaky exhale following as she squirmed on the couch, her thighs tightening around his head. She shoved her hands into his hair, her nails scraping a burning path across his scalp, trying to urge him closer.

He just grunted and sucked harder on one of her nether lips.

“ _Oh_!” The sensation shot through her, making her toes curl. He grinned, dragging his teeth along the inner edge, eliciting a bodily shudder and a breathy, “Oh god.” She twisted her hips, trying to get more friction - he could taste how much she needed it - but he evaded her, pulling back to tease her some more.

The barely audible, “ _Fuck,_ ” was drawn out, ending in a gasp.

It was music to his ears.

She was on the edge, and had been for the last ten minutes. His back was starting to ache from being hunched over and a dull soreness lived in his knees, but they were easy to ignore in favor of slowly pushing her towards oblivion.

“Please.”

He nipped and sucked, taking his time, pushing her to the brink before pulling back again. Her desperate noises filled the room, growing louder until she caught herself. He’d lost track of how many times he’d looked up to find her nearly biting through her damn lip to keep her voice down; it was red and irritated, swollen, and sexy as absolute _hell_.

He wanted more.

“ _Oliver_.”

Felicity dragged his name out, digging her heels into his back, but he didn’t budge. She trembled, her breathing ragged, and she was wet - _god_ , she was wet, a sweet, tangy nectar he couldn’t get enough of - but he didn’t give in. He knew she had more in her.

And he wanted all of it.

“Just… right there, don’t… _yes_ , don’t stop… don’t stop… oooh _god_ , no, _no_ , don’t, would you just…”

“Shh,” he hummed before wrapping his lips around her clit.

Felicity’s back bowed off the couch, her mouth falling open as every muscle in her body seized. Her hips jerked against his face, her body clenching in concentration, fighting to get to that beautiful blissful place that only his tongue could take her to…

But then he stopped.

“No, no, no… god… _damn it_.”

Felicity fisted his strands in both hands, practically ripping his goddamn hair out as she arched her hips up to grind herself against his face. He hissed, but she didn’t stop, especially when he grunted out a rough, “Ow!” against her sensitive flesh.

“Ooh,” she mewled at the slight vibration and she pulled even even harder.

With a growled, “Fuck, Felicity,” Oliver reached around her thighs and yanked her hands free. She fought him, her lithe muscles tensing under his grip, but he overpowered her, folding her arms over her stomach and pinning them there.

His scalp burned and he nipped at her swollen clit just enough to sting.

It only made her want more, but he didn’t give it to her.

“No,” she whimpered, wriggling under his mouth, tossing her head against the stiff cushions. “ _Oliver_.”

“Shh.” Oliver looked up at her. “Keep it down.” She tried sitting up to glare at him but he leaned back in, dragging his chin over her sex. His stubble scraped right over her clit. Her eyes rolled back, something unintelligible slipping past her lips as he asked, “Do you want us to get caught?”

He reveled in the shiver that fell down her spine as she looked at him with a frown. He smirked, making her scowl. He was the one who’d dragged her back here, snatching her away from the others when she’d entered the building.

_“Hey, stop that, we have to get to the breakfast.”_

_“I’d rather have you for breakfast.”_

_“Well, that sucks for you because I’d rather have coffee with people I actually like. Now let. Me. Go.”_

_“Interesting choice of words, Smoak,”_ he’d whispered in her ear before pulling her into an alcove, pushing his hand up her skirt. She’d hissed his name, nearly elbowing him in the face, but he dodged it, pulling her flush to his chest. There’d been enough light to see her cheeks flushing as he pushed her back against the wall. She’d gripped his jacket, her breath mingling with his where he hovered over her lips. Did she even realize she’d wrapped her leg around his, or that she’d panted his name when he slid his fingers up her soft thigh? His lips had grazed hers before adding, _“Sucking is exactly what I had in mind.”_

She was gorgeous.

Her lids were heavy, her lips trembling, her skin flush. Her thighs were warm against his shoulders, her skin damp with sweat. Her hard nipples stood tall, a rich dusky pink in the morning light; her long necklace was caught on one. He wanted to pull it into his mouth and suck until she was screaming his name.

Desire seared through his chest.

God, it was an addicting sight. When she was on the brink like this, all frustration and passion and need? Add to it the anger sparking deep in her eyes? It was almost enough for him to say fuck it and crawl up her body and thrust home. He’d push her legs up, one hand grabbing her lush ass for leverage, the other cupping her face to hold her still as his lips fell on hers, swallowing that cry of surrender she always let out when he thrust deep into her…

Oliver’s body tightened with his own need, his cock twitching in his slacks, but he pushed it down.  

Not yet.

 _They had time_.

And even if they hadn’t, he would have damn well made the time because he would much rather spend the day between her thighs than pretending to enjoy golf. There was only one employee he cared to spend his extra time with and he already had her.

Oliver took a steadying breath, inhaling her musky scent. He tightened his hold on her arms. There was enough sunlight coming through the windows behind them to see her pupils blow wide in response as a soft, unspoken plea for him to _keep going please don’t stop_ flashed over her features.

He licked a long strip up from her soaking entrance to her needy clit.

Felicity’s eyes slipped shut with a ragged, “ _God_.” She twisted her hands, trying to grab him, to make him do more, but his grip on her was solid. She couldn’t move. She pressed her feet into his back, tried to push him closer, but he had her spread wide, leaving her no leverage. He did it again and she whined, panting, “Oliver, _please_ … just… I need…”

His eyes never left her as he flattened his tongue against her clit. Her mouth fell open in a series of, “Yes, yes, _yes_ ,” as he tortured her.

She was stunning, her hair up, her makeup pristine. He preferred her without it. It wasn’t a conscious thought; it slid through the back of his mind, a memory of what she’d looked like the last time he’d been in this exact position, in her kitchen. But right now, she was ready for a day of team building with her fellow employees at the country club, something they’d be getting back to any second now. They weren’t scheduled to be anywhere for another half hour, when the fourth group of golfers was teed up. Until then, he had her sprawled out before him, naked and trembling, and he was going to take his sweet goddamn time.

He pulled back again and she collapsed in a desperate huff.

“What do you need, Smoak?” he asked. She whimpered, her breasts swaying with her rapid breaths. “Do you need… this?” Oliver pressed his chin against her tender flesh, rubbing it up and down, making her hips jerk unevenly against his face. Pain twisted her brow but she still nodded rapidly. “Or… this?” He licked her clit, dragging his tongue up and down before wrapping his lips around it. Her thighs shook. “Or this…” Oliver stiffened his tongue and pushed it inside her. She keened before biting her lip to stop the noise, but she quickly lost that battle as he twisted it inside her, tasting her. She cried out as he asked, “Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” she gasped, nodding. “Yes, yes, yes… _Please_.”

He would have been content to keep going, to drag it out as long as he could, because she was right where he liked her.

But then she looked down at him and he froze.

The naked need in her eyes was so intense it damn near bowled him over. He’d pushed her to the point of no return before, all the way up to the precipice where she forgot even her own name, but this… This was different. All her walls were gone, not an ounce of preamble left as she begged him with her eyes, asking him to just _take_ her, to take _care_ of her, imploring him with everything she had.

He hadn’t realized she was so far gone, not until this moment.

It hit him hard _._

Oliver stopped breathing, his chest tightening as she whispered his name followed by a breathless, “ _Please_.”

It wouldn’t be until much later when he was alone and staring at his ceiling that he’d realize he would have done absolutely anything she asked him to in that single second.

But that was later, and this was now, and her breathy plea was a key opening a lock he didn’t even know was there.

His eyes never leaving hers, Oliver leaned back in and pressed a soft kiss to her sex. Her breath hitched and he did it again, and again. It was soft, gentle, and something else, something he couldn’t name. He kissed her, tasting her, but this time he was firm, earning those beautiful pants of his name.

He built her up, avoiding her clit, licking around it much to her chagrin - “Oliver!” she whined. He sucked on her tender flesh instead. He could get her off hard and fast, but he knew how much better it would be if he did it properly, if he had her as close to the brink as possible. He wanted _everything_ \- her desperate cries, her trembling body, her beautiful pleasure…

And he knew as well as she did that when he finally reached her little pearl, he wouldn’t be letting go.

“Please, please, please,” Felicity keened, watching him, her muscles trembling. “ _Oliver_ …”

Her lids grew heavy, threatening to slip shut, but she kept them open, like she couldn’t look away.

That sent a heady thrill shooting through him, tugging deliciously at his core, and he finally found her clit.

“Yes!” Felicity cried, falling back, pulling her legs with her as pleasure coiled inside her. He immediately missed them and Oliver let go of her arms, grabbing them back. He pushed her thighs against his shoulders again as he surged forward, wrapping his lips around her clit and _sucking_. “Ooh… _god_!”

The hood of her clit slid back, giving him everything, and he flattened his tongue against it, rocking his head. Her hips surged up to meet him as she rode his face, her feet digging into his back.

“Right there, right there… oh god, yes, there, _there_! Don’t stop!”

Felicity shoved one hand through his hair, cupping the back of his head, pulling him even closer, her other covering his where he held her thigh. She laced their fingers together, gripping him tight as their eyes locked once more. Her hips rocked against his tongue, her thighs tightening, a flush of pleasure crawling over her trembling breasts and up her throat.

She was so beautiful and so close to the edge. Her eyes glazed over, her mouth falling open, everything inside her focused on the pleasure he was giving her.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop… Yes! Yes, yes!”

Felicity fisted his hair again, but didn’t feel the pain this time, too intent on her. He sucked her clit into his mouth, pressing his tongue against her harder, massaging it in time with her thrusts until…

“Oh god!”

Oliver _felt_ her reach the precipice. Her entire body stiffened, her mouth opening in a silent scream.

He scraped his teeth over her clit and it was her undoing.

Felicity came with a harsh shout he knew could be heard out in the hallway, but neither of them cared. She fell to pieces, undulating against his mouth, clutching him tightly as she rode her pleasure out. He kept sucking, pushing her orgasm into another smaller, tighter one that had her bucking against his face. He drew it out as long as he could until she’d completely drenched his face, but even then he didn’t move until he’d had his fill.

When he finally pulled away, she was completely limp, her skin damp and pink with satiation. She dragged her fingers languorously over her softening nipples and trembling abdomen, looking up at him. Her lazy smile was suffused with residual pleasure, her eyes shiny with a satisfaction that had pride streaking through him.

God, she was so fucking gorgeous it made his chest ache.

Oliver dropped a wet kiss on her stomach, earning him a breathy giggle. The sound was damn near an aphrodisiac all its own and he kissed her again and again, the sound quickly morphing into laughter as she tried to push him away. He wiped his stubbled face against her sensitive skin, tickling her, smearing her wetness all over as she giggled out his name, his bulk easily overpowering her pleasure-weakened limbs.

It was only when she dug her nails into his shoulders and breathed, “C’mere,” that he finally sat back and released his aching cock. He grabbed a condom as she bit her lip, arching her back wantonly with a whispered, “I need you.” He barely got the damn thing on before he was crawling up her body and thrusting deep inside her. He knew he shouldn’t kiss her because of who they were there with - it was a rule for a reason - but he didn’t care, and neither did she.

His lips covered hers, swallowing her beautiful cry, his own joining it as her wet heat encased him.

Despite her protests, Oliver made her come again - she had to bury her face against his throat to keep her cries quiet as she clung to him - before he quickly followed. He buried himself as deep as he could, coming inside her with a groan that echoed through the room, her name a litany on his lips as they fell apart in each other’s arms.

They ended up missing their assigned tee off time.

It turned out to be for the best. They wound up in separate golfing groups, meaning Oliver didn’t have to keep himself from openly staring at her delectable ass when she bent over to set up her golf ball.

His relief evaporated later that afternoon, though, when he caught sight of her group.

Rather, when he caught sight of Barry Allen standing right next to her, his shoulder bumping playfully into hers as they talked.

Oliver clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached.

He didn’t do anything, though, despite the growing urge to walk over and snap the kid in half with a growled, ‘ _Stop touching her.’_ There was nothing _to_ do, he reminded himself. _Pull your shit together, Queen._ Still, the urge made his skin suffocatingly tight, and it only grew tighter when he couldn’t bring himself to look away from them as the afternoon progressed.

But it was fine - _he_ was fine… up until he saw Barry tug on a piece of her hair.

Oliver froze, watching it earn what looked like a giggle from Felicity as she batted his hand away. As if that wasn’t enough, a few seconds later, Barry touched her waist, turning her to look at something in the distance.

It was only when Felicity leaned in closer to him, pointing with her golf club, that Oliver damn near lost it.

When it was his turn to hit, he swung so hard and off-center that he almost lost the ball to Starling Creek. When he went to fetch it, his next hit sent it straight into the water. Cursing under his breath, Oliver sent a sharp, “Give me another one,” to the caddy.

“You okay, man?” someone asked.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Oliver snapped.

He wasn’t fucking fine, and it only pissed him off more. Gripping the club as hard as he could, he twisted it in his hands, concentrating on the burn of the leather against his palms before he swung again.

It was just as forceful as the first one, except this time the ball went careening straight for Felicity’s group.

One of the caddies yelled, “Fore!” and everyone close enough to hear it looked up. When Felicity’s group realized the ball was heading their way, they scattered with a shout, including Barry and Felicity. He dodged away from her as Felicity fell to the other side, her skirt flying up.

A dark streak of satisfaction shot through Oliver and for the first time in an hour, he felt like he could breathe.

He didn’t apologize, even when Felicity glared at him, even when Barry looked back with a barely audible, “What the hell, man?”

Instead Oliver asked for another ball and, ignoring her hard stare, swung once more.

His ball landed with a sturdy bounce on the green, one that propelled it all the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	15. 3:37 p.m. Felicity's Apartment (Flash Fic #3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Flash Fic #3) Felicity draws on Oliver's back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick fic. I've been struggling with, like, everything lately, and my writing has been suffering. So - _flash fic time!_ (Well, my attempt at flash fic. I'm calling them flash fics even though I always get carried away with the word count.) Posting before I think too much - it's unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine!
> 
> Reminder: This story is being told out of order! You can now view the **[Four Walls Timeline](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/fourwalls)** , listing the fics as they happen chronologically for Oliver and Felicity.
> 
> I’m putting together a playlist for this series - if you guys have suggestions based on what you’ve read, I’d love to hear them! (Thank you to those who have already sent me some!) I want to create an 8tracks playlist eventually, but for now, here’s my [Four Walls mix on Spotify](https://play.spotify.com/user/abhegel/playlist/5pDkwEv5zSzhieiZa1Bx2L).

She dragged the pen across his skin, following the curves and divots of his muscles, her light breath dancing over his bare skin.

“When I got you back in here,” Oliver said, his voice dragging, “this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” Despite himself, his head dipped forward, giving her all the access she could want where she sat naked behind him, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Well,” Felicity whispered. “This is what you get for interrupting me.” She continued drawing, her long hair brushing the side of his back. It tickled and he shivered, a cascade of goosebumps following its path. It made him more sensitive to the pen tip, which only made him shiver again. Felicity paused, smoothing her hands over his shoulders until they went away. Once her canvas was clear again, she continued with a soft hum. It was an easy, lazy sound, and so full of warm contentment that he sunk even further into her loose embrace. She dropped a kiss between his shoulder blades. "I’m almost done.”

"What are you drawing?”

“Nothing,” she said absently, concentrating on her work.

He couldn’t follow the pattern. When he thought he knew what she was doing - something that made his heart flutter - she switched to a different section, sending his imagination down another road. She could draw anything she wanted, for all he cared, as long as she stayed right there, with him.

He loved days like this, when their plans didn’t extend past the bedroom. Save for her occasional inability to leave Curtis alone when it came to new projects, the only thing they usually had to worry about was getting up for the bathroom and answering the door for takeout.

Sometimes he still couldn’t quite believe that this was his life now.

Oliver cupped her knees, running his hands down to her calves. He followed her warm curves with a loving reverence, slipping down to her feet, his fingers brushing over her ankles. He rubbed a small rough spot near her right ankle bone, one that persisted no matter what she did.

Felicity grunted, wiggling her foot, reading his thoughts. “If you ever see me sitting like that, bop me on the nose.” He chuckled. She was so goddamn adorable. He pictured her sitting at her desk in the other room, her bare foot tucked under her leg, that exact spot rubbing on the mesh seat. “I’m serious,” she continued, tapping the pen on his shoulder for emphasis. “I need to learn. I’m always four hours into something before I remember to move my foot.”

Oliver ran his hands back up her legs as he said, “I’m sure I can think of something.”

His fingers brushed her inner thighs.

Felicity’s breath hitched. “No,” she chastised. “Not like that. When you do that, I don’t get _any_ work done and then I get cranky.”

He chuckled again, the sound low and gritty this time. He leaned back into her, relishing the way she automatically leaned into him. “You ask for my help, Smoak, you don’t get to choose how I go about helping you.”

She snorted and he didn’t have to look back to know she was rolling her eyes. She shifted slightly, though, her skin warming.

Oliver could practically hear her mind spinning out all the ‘helpful’ ways he could remind her to not sit like that. Like parking her delectable ass in his lap as she worked, or his sneaking up behind her and pushing her legs apart, forcing her foot to the ground, one hand keeping her thighs apart, the other slipping into her panties. Just thinking about the breathy cries she’d give him and how tightly she’d grip his arm when she came around his fingers had him hardening under the sheet.

Felicity let out a strangled sigh, splaying her hands across his back with a berating, “Damn it, Oliver,” before she started drawing again.

He grinned, her throaty whisper thrilling him. Knowing she was thinking about him and what he could do to her - that she wanted it just as badly as he did - had pleasure blossoming deep in his core.

Oliver gripped her ankle in his large hand, squeezing it as he pulled her leg tighter around him. “What are you thinking, Smoak?”

Felicity’s fingers faltered slightly, but she didn’t stop, only offering a, “Shush,” and a light tug on his hair with her free hand.

With a smirk, he left himself to her artful ministrations… and took liberties with his own.

As she drew on his back, he touched her legs, slowly. Thoroughly. His lips itched to kiss her, to taste the soft skin his fingers delighted in, but he didn’t want to interrupt her. Instead, as the minutes passed, he started tracing his own patterns on her calves and knees with his fingertips. It was her turn to shiver, her own goosebumps rising to meet his touch. His designs got bigger and more intricate, extending down to her feet…

Felicity giggled. “Stop it.” He didn’t, his fingers dancing over her sensitive soles, earning him another laugh as she tried to pull her leg away. He didn’t let her. “Oliver, that tickles.”

He grinned, whispering, "Sorry,” before doing it again, wanting to hear more of that little sound that was somehow both painfully cute and erotic as hell. She didn’t disappoint, giggling louder, the laugh ending in a breathy sigh of his name.

Just like she did when he had her trembling on the brink of desire.

Need whipped through him, growing stronger by the second as he brushed his fingers over her sensitized skin, eliciting that breathy little sound again.

“Oliver.” Felicity slapped his back. “Stop.” He hummed, shaking his head. He wrapped his hands around her calves, his grip heavy with intent, making his shoulders roll under the pen. She hit him again. “Hold still.”

“No,” he murmured, cupping her knees, pulling her legs tighter around him. Warmth filled him as he wrapped himself in her embrace, his hunger for her right behind it. Her feet and calves brushed over his growing hardness, making him hiss. God, she felt so good, so _perfect_.

Felicity grabbed his shoulders and dug her nails into his muscles with a reprimanding noise, but it only spurred him on. He pushed his hands up her thighs, reaching back until he found her naked hips.

Oliver grasped her tight and tugged her flush against him, pressing her wet heat up against his back.

She gasped, the sound quickly melting into a moan. He pulled her even closer, this time harder, sliding one hand back around to her ass to keep her pressed tight to him.

“Oliver,” Felicity moaned, her hands fluttering over his back. “I’m not… done…” His grip on her tightened, cutting her off. “ _Oliver_.”

He turned his head back to her, whispering, “Finish it later.”

“But I was…” Felicity breathed. She shook her head, trying another tactic with, “I need to get back to work,” but her body was already on a different wavelength. She rocked her hips against him, clinging to his shoulders for leverage. He dug his fingers into her hips, urging her closer, reveling in her hoarse, “Oh god…” when he leaned back with a thrusting motion, right against her sex.

He wanted more. No, he _needed_ more. Urgency whipped through him, desire crackling across the surface of his skin. It would never cease to amaze him how his craving for her grew with each passing second, minute, hour, day, week… Even with all the years between them, all the insanity, the hurt, the pain, the passion, the pleasure, it only added to the inferno that burned him up from the inside out.

Oliver slid his hands up her back, hugging her close. The awkward angle made his shoulders twinge, but he didn’t stop, especially when she dropped the pen and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her breasts against his back. His skin was absolutely feverish in his desire to feel every inch of her, but somehow she was hotter.

He needed _more_ of it, of her.

“Felicity…” he moaned.

She shuddered, like she always did when he dragged her name out.

_Fe-li-ci-ty._

He loved it.

Oliver whispered her name again, tasting each syllable.

Her hands dropped down to brush over his growing arousal. Oliver croaked out a whimper, digging his fingers into her skin, his dull nails leaving tiny marks. His grip only tightened when Felicity wrapped her fingers around his hard cock through the sheet. His hips jerked up into her palms, the sensation of her heated hands through the cool material making him moan. Her thumb brushed over the sensitive tip and he thrust up again, his hot precum soaking the sheets, wetting her skin.

God, it felt so _good_ , but he wanted more. It wasn’t enough. He needed to be inside her, buried as deep as possible.

His cock swelled in her hands and the small, desperate whine she let out in response was his undoing.

Oliver ripped the sheet away and spun around. She was ready for him, her hands cupping his face, pulling his lips to hers. He groaned into her mouth, sucking her lip between his before his tongue sought hers out as they fell back together in a mess of limbs. They wrapped around each other as tight as possible, tangling themselves together until there was nothing left but them…

Only them.

And just like that, something switched, the easy serenity of a few minutes ago falling over them once more.

The desperation that’d burned through their veins slipped to the backburner as their kisses gentled, their movements slowing to tender strokes, to something much softer.

For a moment they simply held each other, their bodies fused together as much as was possible, as close as they could get. They touched and caressed, drinking from each other’s lips, _savoring_ …

But as the minutes passed, the kisses slowly grew heavier, deeper, mimicking what their lower halves ached for.

“I need you,” Felicity sighed against his lips, hugging him even closer, if that was possible. “Inside me, Oliver… _Please_.”

God, so did he.

Oliver pulled his hips back, just enough, not willing to lose contact with her if he could help it. The head of his cock slipped through her wetness, finding her entrance. But he didn’t thrust home, not yet. He paused, pulling back to look at her. When their eyes met, his heart stuttered, skipping a couple dozen beats. She was so fucking beautiful. Her skin was flush, her eyes darkened with desire, a small smile pulling at her lips.

He could taste the words for how he felt on his tongue, but he didn’t say anything. His chest tightened with the weight of them, their significance blanketing both of them… he told himself, _‘Not yet,’_ trying to push them down… 

But she saw it.

Felicity’s face softened, her lips parting as if to speak, but nothing came out.

And then her fingers brushed over his upper back, over the spot where she’d been drawing.

Oliver’s chest seized.

The world around them froze as they stared at each other, everything stopping except for them, for that single, beautiful moment.

Moving with deliberate slowness, Oliver cupped her face in both hands where he hovered over her.

He kissed her once, twice… soft, sweet chaste kisses that resonated through every inch of him.

Felicity wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling his nose with hers, returning each of them just as gently. She slid one hand into his hair, slipping the other one between them to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing over the delicate skin under his eye.

“Oliver…”

She said his name with such devotion that tears burned his eyes.

He held her tighter, closer, pressing his forehead to hers… and then he slid into her, filling her completely, gasping as she took everything he was without question, without hesitation. The gravity of that realization always hit him like a ton of bricks and this time was no different.

He fell into her open arms with a lovingly whispered, “ _Felicity_ ,” as he cradled her in his.

They made love, their lips finding each other again, nurturing the unspoken between them, stoking it, letting it consume them as their muffled cries of pleasure and love filled the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!
> 
> I'm [dust2dust34](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com) on Tumblr - come say hi!


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